Ariane and I
by RunescapeStories
Summary: A new age has dawned on Gielinor. Gods walk the earth and only one mortal warrior has the power to influence the future. Joined by fellow adventurer Ariane, does he have what it takes to help secure the future of the world? SPOILERS: The outcome of many Runescape quests are revealed. Good lore knowledge will make for better reading. First fanfiction. Rated T but contains M scenes.
1. People Are Calling It A New Age

Disclaimer ~ Runescape is not my game, I just play it.

**Important: **The facts of this fanfiction are accurate as of **4th September 2013**. Any quests/world events that occur after this date may not necessarily be included in the story.

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Razor-sharp teeth, eerily protruding dorsal spikes and ridiculously long claws. Dagannoths would be considered creatures of nightmare to many, but to an adventurer such as myself they were not even spared a second glance. One dagannoth was never a challenge. But even I had to take notice when four of them were closing in.

The cave was dark and damp, but the gnarls and growls from these monsters told me that I was not welcome in their abode. I lifted my greathammer once more and waited for one to strike. The largest dagannoth of the pack pounced first, its claws aimed at my throat. The blow never hit. One swing of my hammer struck it square across the jaw and sent it sprawling across the cave floor and back into the shadows. With the momentum of the first blow I spun on my heel and cracked the skull of the second. The third leapt forward head-first and I angled myself so that the blow landed on my reinforced shoulder plate. The creature was still reeling from the impact when my hammer came down to finish it. The fourth dagannoth sought to take me off my guard with an attack from behind, but a backwards thrust saw the creature impaled by the hilt of my greathammer, the four-sided star cutting clean through its thick, grey hide.

These creatures were capable foes, but they lacked the co-ordination that they once had. The last time I had fought them was a year or so back on mainland Relleka when they had sought to destroy the Fremennik town for good. I had helped ward them off that day, and in an ensuing battle had purged the possibility of a future threat by defeating the Dagannoth Mother, a colossus of beast if I ever saw one. It had been a staggeringly costly battle for the Fremennik, but one of incomprehensible import to their future security. I still remember the feeling of euphoria when I watched that beast fall. I had thought it would be my defining moment as a travelling adventurer, for surely such an achievement could not be topped? But so much had happened since then…

The fifth dagannoth came forwar….wait, the fifth? I glanced around. In the dim light of the cave I could make out seven more figures hulking forward towards me. And those were only the ones I could see. Damn it, I must have travelled further into the cave system than I thought. I lifted up my greathammer once more. It was a fantastic weapon, but it was times like these when I wish I had my shield. Three pounced, faster than I had anticipated. I parried one's jaws away with a deft swipe of my hammer and ducked the blow of claws from another. I thrust low with the hammer and heard the crack of bones as at least two pairs of dagannoth legs were shattered. Another creature leapt towards my face and I kicked it back hard, pushing it back into the tide of its kin. I used the thrust to turn and swing my hammer in a wide arc, crushing skulls and necks. Broken teeth and shattered jaw-bone flew madly around the cave. I lunged with my hammer's hilt and caught the neck of another, impaling its neck and spewing thick, red blood everywhere. I yanked the hilt out and turned around for another arc-thrust. A blow landed square in my face.

I fell. Hard.

Regaining my senses quickly I stumbled up and moved back towards the cave wall. Thankfully the blow had been neither claw nor teeth, but the force of it had been enough to knock me over. I felt the cool touch of the cave wall behind me and held my greathammer loosely with one hand as I watched the creatures close in. No doubt, it was going to be a tough fight. But I had faced much worse.

An unusually large dagannoth was stalking close, bloody drool dripping out of its open maw. I realised that I had cracked off half its jaw, and its black, beady eyes were alight with undiluted fury. I raised my hammer high and yelled with vehemence, poised to strike.

Searing heat filled the cave. I instinctively dropped my hammer to cover my eyes. The dagannoth close by was literally engulfed in a fireball, its meat cooking within its own thick hide. Another fireball, and another. Six dagannoths were ablaze before the rest even knew where the attacks were coming from. A few of them dared charge but were eviscerated by fire. The rest, the smarter ones, fled. They scurried back into the dark corners and crevices of their cave, away from the flames and the fire-caster.

I picked myself up, and dusted the cave soot from my chestplate. I had known who had cast the magic as soon as I saw the flames, only one mage I knew could conjure such strong fire.

Ariane stepped out from the shadows. Tall and slender, the mage brushed some of her thick red hair from her brow. She was dressed in her usual dark green robes which were hugged tightly around her, accentuating her impeccable physique. There was a deep slit in her robe bottom which showed much of her long legs. In one hand she held a long wooden stick tipped with a burning amber orb, her impressive battlestaff of fire. She was stunning. Lit by the orange-tinge of her magical flames now burning dagannoth bodies on the cave floor, she was a particularly impressive sight.

"Garviel," she said, as a manner of greeting.

For the briefest of moments I struggled to regain my composure. It wasn't so much because of the fight I had just endured, but more so because of the sight of her.

"Ariane. What brings you to Waterbirth Island?"

She moved closer. I could see the fire dancing in her green eyes.

"I've been looking for you for a while now Garviel. Recent events have been…compelling. We need to talk." She looked around and gestured at the cave floor with her staff "And you're lucky I showed up when I did."

"We both know I could have handled that on my own." I flashed her a smile. "That being said, your magic has definitely improved. I almost thought a dragon had made this cave its home."

Her features did not change. "We should all seek to improve ourselves in these times where Gods walk alongside mortals. People are calling it a New Age."

I reached down to pick up my greathammer. "Indeed they are. So how exactly did you know I was here?"

Ariane didn't answer. She eyed my weapon closely and bit her lip in slight disapproval. "I have to say I am surprised to see you wielding such a weapon."

I had been expecting that. My greathammer was large and imposing, its core lit by undying blue light. Each side of its ridge was adorned with a golden four-sided star, the same symbol that emerged from its hilt. "I am sure you have heard of the battle that ravishes Lumbridge. I have aided the Saradominist forces there, and in return Saradomin has presented with this weapon. It is called an Icyenic Greathammer."

Ariane raised an eyebrow. "You kneel before the Blue Giant now?"

"I do no such thing," I replied, louder than I had intended. "The only god I would kneel before would immediately tell me to rise and chastise me for kneeling in the first place. And anyway…he is gone now…" I broke off suddenly.

Ariane, realising she had touched upon a sensitive area, softened her tone.

"I heard you were there…at the end."

I did not reply.

She continued on. "And I have also heard that you have been bestowed a…special gift. That you are now his chosen, the Guardian of this World."

Again, I held my silence.

She took a step forward, staring at me, imploring. "Is this true?"

I looked back at her. "Get us out of here Ariane, and I'll tell you everything."

Nearby, the surviving dagannoths were creeping back out of the shadows. Teeth gnawing and claws clicking, a few of them edged slowly closer, fancying another crack at the intruders in their cave.

Ariane looked around a nodded. She chanted something softly and the cave was briefly lit by a flash of brilliant turquoise light as Ariane teleported us both out of Waterbirth Island.

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The dark cave disappeared. Sunlight, fresh air and thick fern trees surrounded me. I took a moment to steady myself from the disorientation that always came with teleportation. Somewhere above birds were chirping.

Ariane was still eying me, eager for answers. "Where are we?" I asked her, sheathing my weapon across my back.

"North of Falador," she replied "They've warded off teleportation directly to the city for obvious reasons."

In the distance I could make out the pearl-white stone walls of the massive city. "Good, I could use a walk."

We walked together down the dirt track road. Squirrels were chasing each other and rabbits were darting from hole to hole. The sun was slowly setting in the distance, and a low hoot nearby told me an owl was readying itself for a hunt. In times like this it was hard to believe that the whole of Geilinor was about to be at war.

I broke the silence. "It is true. I was there when he was killed. I was there when he was murdered. His final act was to make me the World Guardian. The power Guthix gave me means that I cannot be harmed by Gods."

Ariane gasped inwardly. She looked me up and down as if I had just become some sort of book that she had to read. It made me feel uneasy. "That is an incredible gift."

"An incredible responsibility," I corrected.

She put a hand on my shoulder and stopped me walking. She smiled for the first time. It was a lovely sight, her lips were full and there was the hint of dimples around her cheeks. "I was hoping the rumours were true. I can think of no one better suited for the honour." I looked away. I wasn't as convinced as she was. After all, how worthy could I be if I had allowed Guthix to be killed right before my very eyes? Ariane looked at me, her green eyes bright with understanding and compassion, "There was nothing you could have done."

I nodded solemnly and we walked on. Ariane was walking at a brisker pace, her head slightly cocked. I knew she was contemplating the implications of this latest development. "Just think of all the good you could do, Garviel!" she said, suddenly cheerful. "You could be the key to end this war."

"I intend to be," I said with a small smile, my mood brightened by her candour. "Until then, let's just hope I make the right choices."

"I'm sure you will," Ariane said. But there was something in her voice, something in her tone that betrayed a nagging doubt.

"You must know Ariane, that I trust Saradomin just about as far as I could throw him. I've seen him at least three times since he has returned, and his lust for power has never been more evident. I cannot comprehend the destruction he would be willing to do to this world, if only to rule over the scraps of it that remain. But yes, I did fight on the blue side in the Battle of Lumbridge. The town is peaceful, as are its people, and they deserve better than the wrath of Zamorak. I did what I thought was best for them. And I made it very clear to Saradomin that I was fighting with him, and not for him."

I unsheathed my Icyenic Greathammer. At my touch power seemed to bristle off it, its blue light pulsing harder. "As for this…it was a gift from Saradomin for my service to him. It is an incredibly strong weapon. That is all that matters. I care not under what god-allegiance it was initially forged for. It's under the same reasoning that I always wear this armour. My chestplate and tassets are thick and strong, and it does not matter to me in the slightest that it was forged by the dogs of Bandos."

We walked down some stairs onto a cobble stone road.

I continued. "Guthix was hardly one to bestow his followers his equipment for battle. Even this power he gave me is limited. Zamorak himself couldn't harm me but any mortal still can." I grinned at Ariane. "You and that battlestaff definitely could."

Ariane laughed softly. She seemed more at ease now. "Good to see that Guthix hasn't given you any unfair advantage in any future duel we may have," she smiled.

The white walls of Falador were upon us now, and we neared the city's thick oak gates. I still remembered the awe that struck me the first time I saw the pearly marble walls of Falador all those years ago. But now I could look upon the city with nothing more than disdain. The city itself was remarkable and its people pleasant enough, but there was just a little too much devotion in the air of the Saradomist city. Blind devotion was dangerous. Blind devotion to Saradomin could prove to be particularly dangerous. People often called me too critical of the God of Order, but I had my reasons. Foremost of which was that Saradomin had been one of the gods responsible for the destruction of Guthix's homeworld and the extinction of his race of Naragi people. I still hadn't told anyone about that tale that I learnt from Guthix in his final moments, and I never would. Some stories are best kept to oneself. Still, it had been particularly hard fighting on Saradomin's side in Lumbridge with that knowledge. I had consoled myself with the thought that I was doing what was best for the town's people. My greathammer felt somewhat heavier in my hands, and I sheathed it across my back again.

The city gates opened for us and the sprawling mass of Falador Square greeted us. People bustled this way and that, and I noticed that the amount of City Guards had at the very least doubled since I had last been here. There was something else too. If you looked closely enough you could just sense the tinge of tension from the city's inhabitants; the tension that always came when the prospect of war loomed near.

"How about a drink?" Ariane suggested. I nodded and we made our way to the nearby Rising Sun Inn. People parted in the square as we passed, weary of the adventurer in full armour and the mage with her glowing staff.

The pub was packed. When we entered the smell of sweat and beer was almost overwhelming. Most of the men people here were big, burly miners just done with their shift down in the mines. Falador had increased its commission of swords, plate and shields for the upcoming war and these men were being put to hard work, mining and smelting the ore required the forge the weapons and armour.

The loud din of conversation, singing and laughter dimmed considerably when we stepped inside. The people in the pub eyed us suspiciously, most of the men paying particular attention to Ariane. I saw more than one miner slush some of his beer onto the floor at the sight of her. We moved towards the bar and the noise soon returned to its original state.

We took a seat and I removed my helm, looking around for the cute, blonde bartender Emily. We had shared a night together a few years back so it was slightly awkward between us, but I still enjoyed hearing the gossip she picked up around the bar.

There was no Emily tonight, but instead a large, brawny bartender I hadn't seen before. As soon as he saw us sit down he moved over to serve us.

"On the house," he said, placing a large, frothy beer in front of Ariane. He grinned at her, a few teeth missing.

"Well thank you," said Ariane, returning his smile. She turned to me. "He must've heard about that time I helped the dwarves fix their carts down in the mines," she said cheerfully.

"Hmm, I sure he did," I replied, my eyes never leaving the bartender. The thickset man was staring at her greedily and when she turned had taken the opportunity to ogle at her cleavage.

Ariane confused me at times. She was a stunningly attractive woman but it was as if she never realised this. Whenever she received attention or assistance from other people she attributed it to her own work, and the name she had made for herself helping others as an adventurer. True, she had garnered quite a bit of fame as an adventurer in the past few years, but that wasn't the main reason why mens' heads turned when she passed.

I knew Ariane could handle herself if this bartender tried anything, but it still irked me. I slid two coins down the counter and grabbed a beer for myself. "Come on Ariane," I said, "There's a table free by the window."

The bartender flashed me an angry snarl. He was considerably taller than me, but he wasn't fool enough to mess with a warrior in full battle plate. We walked over to the table and took a seat. We were right beside the castle moat and Ariane tossed a stray piece of bread down to the ducks that swam there. They quacked in approval.

I took a sip of my beer. It was bitter.

"I've been studying a new art," Ariane announced. "They're calling it Divination."

I knew what she was speaking of. Some people had learnt to harness some of the residual power left behind after Guthix's death. I had dabbled in the skill myself, but it just felt wrong to toy with some of the power that once belonged to Guthix, albeit a minute fraction.

"I'm getting quite good," she continued. She lowered her voice, "It's helped with my visions. That's how I knew you were at Waterbirth."

I also knew of Ariane's secret. She was a Seer, born with the rare gift to see into the future. I did not understand why she always tried to hide this talent of hers, it was a remarkable ability. Still, I was impressed at how much she had improved since our last meeting.

"The last time we met you could only forsee briefly into the near future," I said, "And that too, only when it was pain-induced."

She gave a dry smile. "As I said, we all need to improve ourselves in these times."

I wanted to ask her what else she had forseen, but decided not to. Visions were personal things. Me prying her for information about her future would be like her prying me for information about my past.

She looked up towards the impressive White Knights' Castle. Its tall towers shot high into the evening sky, daring anything or anyone to challenge it.

"It's so empty." she remarked.

"Most of them rallied south to Lumbridge at first word of the return of Saradomin." I took a swig of my beer. "Meanwhile, the Imperial Guard have been holding off the invading trolls for years up north and not a single squire was sent to aid them."

A loud noise emerged from the other side of the bar. Two drunk miners had gotten into a fist fight. Other miners began cheering them on and some tossed coin onto a pile to gamble on the winner. Ariane glanced at them but paid them no heed.

"Let's not get involved in the politics of Asgarnia," she sighed. "We've both helped out with the troll situation in the past, but there's much more pressing issues at hand." She smiled and looked back at me, "Besides, I'm not the one here who is a recognised Temple Knight."

I grinned and took another swig of beer. "I'm an unofficial one, if anything. And I can honestly say that the ancient order of Temple Knights do what they believe to be best for the people. I just fear that their motives will be tainted with the return of Saradomin." Another swig of beer. "And to be frank, I've always reckoned that this city rightfully belongs to King Vallance and his Guard."

Ariane looked out the window. "Who cares about Kings in a time of Gods?"

She had a good point. I slushed my remaining beer around in my glass. The pub fight had ended and the victor was being carried around by his comrades who were singing _"He could've been a Knight, he should've been a Knight!"_

I noticed Ariane was once again looking up at White Knights' Castle. I knew exactly what she was thinking.

"He's still in hiding, Ariane." I said.

She looked back at me, "I know. It would just be nice to hear if he was alright."

Sir Owen and Ariane had been involved romantically about half a year ago. Although they had gone their separate ways, she still cared for him. As did I, he was a good friend.

"Won't you tell me what happened that day?"

I finished my beer. "I'm sorry, Ariane, not today."

She looked back out the window. Sir Owen and her had been involved together for no more than two months. Idly, I wondered how far they had gotten. I chastised myself immediately, I shouldn't be thinking of friends in such a way. Still, there was something about Ariane. Even now, as the setting sunlight poured through the window onto her face, she looked so serene – her large eyes, high cheekbones, full lips. Yet there was something about her beyond her physical attraction. I had envied Sir Owen back then, although so did almost all the men in Geilinor.

I waited for Ariane to finish her drink. "So where are you off to now?" I asked.

"Actually, I've been planning to go back to Wizard's Tower," she said, "I want to learn about warding spells to help the citizens of Lumbridge. It's time I helped out in the Battle, although I refuse to fight openly for either side. If I leave now I should get there by nightfall. It's been nice seeing you, Garviel." She got up to leave.

I caught her arm. She felt warm. "Mind if I join you? I really don't have anything else to do right now."

For a moment she looked taken aback, but then she smiled. "Sure, I could use the company." She laughed, "And it couldn't hurt to travel alongside the World Guardian."

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	2. Purple Portal

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We rented two horses from the Falador stables and rode out of the city's south gate. On the way we passed farmers from the nearby fields dredging themselves back to the city, worn out from a long day's work. Ariane and I were the only ones leaving Falador at this hour. Not many people travelled late these days, and everyone felt safer at night with the thick Falador walls between them and the new dangers of the world.

"People everywhere living in fear,"Ariane said softly, shaking her head. Their horses were trotting at a brisk pace down to Draynor. It had started to drizzle.

"The people of Falador have a right to be scared," I murmured, "when Zamorak himself walks on the face of Gielinor."

"It's all these gods," said Ariane with conviction, "All of them. If they truly wanted what was best for the people here they would leave. They've been back no more than a month and already thousands have died, and many more will follow soon."

She looked at me from atop her horse. "There is only one path left. I am part of a growing faction that call ourselves The Godless. We will never truly be free until the gods are gone once more."

I had heard of this faction. Many of my Guthixian friends had joined when they heard the true word of Guthix - That mortals should not follow gods, and instead lead lives of their own will and choosing. Those of the Godless came from many different races, but they all had noble purposes at heart.

Gods could not be trusted, this was the truth. All they wanted was power. Power and influence over this world. Some were open about their motives, others hid and veiled them behind seemingly honourable ideologies and practices.

The One True God Guthix was now dead. Yet, there still remained one god. One god out of all the others that vied for control of this planet. One god who could possibly still bring hope.

"What do you know of Armadyl?" I asked.

Ariane was slightly startled by the question. She recovered quickly. "No more than you do, I'm sure. He is the patron god of the Avianese race. God of Law and Justice."

_ And the only god left noble enough to truly care about mortals_, I thought.

"Garviel," Ariane began, "It is very unlikely that Armadyl will return. His Avianese are all dead, they have been for hundreds of years."

"Not all of them," I replied softly.

We rode in silence for a while. I had the impression that Ariane was trying to formulate what to say next. The rain intensified.

"Garviel…Guthix himself told you in person that it is wrong for mortals to follow Gods."

I spoke louder, and more sternly "He also told me that mortals should lead lives of their own choosing, and have the freedom to make any decision themselves."

Ariane said no more, so I continued.

"I can't help but think Guthix's final request was naïve." I admitted. "If he himself couldn't hold back the return of the Gods, how does he hope for us the rid the world of them, when the only weapon we have is this power he has given me?"

I brushed the rain out of my hair. "I will never bend my knee to another god, but I acknowledge that Armadyl is one who is true of purpose. I would lend him my sword arm if needs be."

The rain was pouring now. Thunder could be heard in the distance. The horses struggled on their reins, scared.

"Easy, girl!" Ariane soothed her horse as is stopped in the middle of the road and started to panic.

She looked back at me, hair soaking and voice course. "We'll never make it to the Wizard's Tower in this storm." As if to confirm her suspicion, a massive lightning bolt lit the sky nearby. Ariane's horse, teetering on the edge of control before, now lost all bearings and knocked Ariane clean off, running straight back the long road to Falador.

I almost lost control of my horse as well, but being more learned in the art of animal control and summoning, I just about managed to sooth it out of its fearful panic.

"We've got to head back to Falador!" yelled Ariane, getting up from the floor. The rain was coming down so hard now that I could barely hear her.

"No!" I yelled back, helping her up onto my own horse. "My house is in Rimmington, it's closer by!" I pulled the reins of my horse and sent it in a new direction, heading for Rimmington at full speed. Ariane clung on tight behind me, a sensation that I did not fail to notice despite the circumstances. The rain slashed at us hard, pushed by the strong gale winds from the sea past Port Sarim. The wind itself, often cool and comforting, was now icy cold.

We passed an old iron mine and cabbage field, and after several minutes the small town of Rimmington finally came into view.

"Where's your house?" shouted Ariane as another boom of thunder shook the air.

"Through that portal," I yelled back, leading the horse to a large, purple portal.

"Your house is in a portal?" she shouted back, confused.

"This is hardly the time to discuss the workings of portal housing!" I slid off the horse soaking wet and helped Ariane down. I yanked the horses reins towards a nearby stable and it ran inside right to the end, burring itself under some warm hay.

"Come on," I said, holding on to Ariane's arm and stepping inside the portal.

The downpour immediately stopped. We were inside the courtyard of my home. The pitter-patter of raindrops could still be heard splashing against the other side of the portal, as well as the deep, soft boom of distant thunder, but the house itself was perfectly dry.

"Welcome," I said, taking off my cape and wringing it dry.

Ariane looked around, intrigued. "I've never been inside one of these portal homes before," she said. "And Garviel, this house is massive."

She was right. Some adventurers valued their armour more than anything else, others their weapons. But for me, my real prize possession was my home, every brick of which I had laid myself. It was indeed very large, each room surrounding the long rectangular garden courtyard.

"Construction is my passion," I grinned, removing my gauntlets. "I've become a master since we last met."

"I can imagine," said Ariane, still looking around. "Even Linza could learn a thing or two from you….Oh!" she suddenly exclaimed. My pets had realised I was home and ran over to greet us.

Ariane bent down to stroke my blue squirrel. "I had no idea you had so many pets."

"It's not a home without them," I smiled, giving my pet penguin a gentle nudge with my foot. "I've just got a chameleon from Cairn Island too. It's a bit shy but it's somewhere around here…"

I looked at Ariane properly for the first time since we entered my home. She was soaking wet. Her once dark green robes were now black with rainwater and hugging tightly to her slender body. Her robe top clung to her breasts, which were large and round, as was now plain to see. Her skirt had ridden up high, probably from when she dismounted from the horse, and much of her thigh was showing. Yet she knelt down and played with my pet squirrel as if she didn't even realize.

"Uh…" I said, averting my eyes. "I'll start us a fire in the dining room. The guest bedroom is down the courtyard to the left, you should find some dry robes there."

"Thank you, Garviel," she said, getting up and walking down the garden. My squirrel, which had clearly taking a liking to her, followed behind, nipping at her heels.

I stood dumbfound for a moment, before realizing how stupid it must be to feel jealous of a squirrel. I went to my costume room and removed my chestplate, tassets and boots, and gently unstrapped my greathammer to place it against the wall. In my regular, plain clothing I managed to start a fire in the marble fireplace of my dining room. I warmed my hands before starting work on some soup on my kitchen range.

Ariane entered soon, in my old plain blue magic robes. "Do you need some help?" she smiled. My old robes were clearly too big for her, and she kept on having to roll the sleeves up her arms. Although very much the opposite of her rain-soaked tight robes, she still somehow looked incredibly attractive in the overlarge clothing. Her red hair was still mattered and wet from the downpour, and water droplets slid down her cheek.

"No thanks, I've got this covered," I replied, "Go warm yourself by the fire."

She took a seat in the dining room near the fire, and I brought the soup over. "Nothing special," I said, "Just something to warm us up."

Ariane seemed more interested in my dining table. "This table has a marble top," she exclaimed. "That's worth more than my entire set of battlestaffs."

"Like I said, it's my passion." I sat opposite her and took a spoonful of hot soup. Almost instantly, I felt much better.

Ariane took some soup herself, and shifted her chair closer to the fire. Another soft boom of thunder could be heard from outside, the sound greatly diluted by the portal.

"Looks like the rain isn't going to let up," I said. "Guess you're staying in the spare room for the night."

Ariane smiled. "I had planned to spent the night in my old dingy barracks at the Wizard's Tower, but I suppose this will do."

I laughed. We drank more soup in silence.

"Garviel…" said Ariane, suddenly more serious. I looked up. "I'm sorry if I sounded judgemental earlier when you mentioned Armadyl. I can't imagine the burden placed on you as the World Guardian. But there's a reason why you're known by almost everyone from Misthilin through Kandarin. You've achieved so much by being true to yourself, more so even than by being true to Guthix. Just remember that in the future and everything will work out fine."

Her words were kind and soft. She looked directly at me as she spoke them.

She got up from her chair and smiled. "I think I've had enough soup. It's been a long day, I'm off to bed now, Goodnight."

I got up quickly to see her off.

"Goodnight, Ariane," I said as I watched her leave the room.

I stood unmoving for a moment or two before realizing how tired I was myself. I had ventured to Waterbirth Island only a day ago, hoping to vent some of my frustration against the gruesome dagannoths that lived there. I was already back home, which was surprising because I often left for several days at a time. I choked out the fire before walking back to my room.

I stopped near my chapel, and entered as I always did. The symbol of Guthix stood proudly atop my altar. I knelt before it, knowing full well that were Guthix alive he would not approve of my actions at all. I didn't care.

_Guthix, give me strength. This world is scarred and I am trying to best to help it regain its balance. Please show me the way forward. _

Just like every prayer I had ever given to Guthix, there was no reply. He was never the sort of god who answered prayers. It was foolish for me to expect anything more now that he was dead.

As I stood up to leave, a glimmer of light green caught my eye from behind the altar. I walked over, and looked to see what was there. Remembering what it was, I smiled.

I pulled out the Sword of Edicts from behind the altar. Long, strong and splendidly green, the sword was weighted perfectly in my hands. A symbol of Guthix adorned the middle of the blade, and sprawled around it in intricate text were the Edicts of Guthix in an ancient text long forgotten. I had attained the sword after becoming a Guardian of Guthix, however short-lived that job of mine was. The sword was lean, elegant and precise, but I had left it here about two months past in favour of the Icyenic Greathammer. The Greathammer was a weapon of brute force and power, and so better suited my need to vent the constant frustration I found within me since becoming the World Guardian. But holding on to the Sword of Edicts now somehow comforted me. I could not understand the minute sprawl of ancient text around the sword, but just seeing it reminded me that while Guthix may be gone, his words and lessons live on.

I carried the sword back to my bedroom and laid it next to the bed. I was ready to use this weapon once more, and told myself that I would do so starting from tomorrow.

Sleep had been hard to come by since Guthix gave me the gift and burden of becoming World Guardian, but thinking back to Ariane's words truly consoled me. As I clambered into bed my mind drifted from Ariane's words to Ariane herself. She was truly something. It was hard to believe she was right now staying under my own roof, right across the courtyard. Part of me wanted to just leap out of bed, knock on her door and enter her room, just to see what would happen. I could never fully understand the inner workings of Ariane's mind. As long as I had known her, I had never seen her flirt with anyone. I certainly had no idea of her affection for Sir Owen when the two of them had become romantically involved. How could I possibly predict how she feels about me? And yet…there was something in the way she talked to me earlier…something different. My mind drifted once again, this time to the sight of her soaked wet with rain. I tensed up, and decided I had better just go to bed.

I closed my eyes.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

I opened them.

It was morning already. It was hard to believe that I had finally gotten a good night's rest. I heard voices coming from the parlour. Two voices.

I yanked on my britches and jogged over. Ariane was sitting down and laughing with another man. He was tall, slim, and was currently engaged in telling a wildly animated story. He was dark of skin and had an impressive goatee. He wore what looked like brown leather hide, but what was most imposing was the massive longbow he held in one arm. When he saw me standing there he stopped mid-story and came over to grasp my hand.

"Garviel!" he beamed, thumping my back.

"Ozan!" I replied, "It's great to see you again, but how on earth did you get into my house?"

"Do you really need to ask?" He punched my arm playfully, grinning. "You're looking at the guy who almost stole the Kharid-ib! What's a little portal housing lock compared to that I ask you?"

I grinned back, but took a second to look him over. He was darker than I remembered, and there was the slightest hint of bags under his brown eyes. There was also something about his demeanour that seemed a little…forced.

_What hope do any of us have when this war manages to affect even a guy like Ozan? _I thought to myself.

"I was just telling the lovely Ariane here where I've been the past few months." Ozan gestured at Ariane. She had changed back into her dark green robes. I suspected she had dried them herself with her fire battlestaff which now was leaning casually on a nearby chair.

"Do tell," I said, taking a seat.

"Well," began Ozan, leaning against the wall to recount his story. "It all began a few months back when Guthix died and the Edicts were broken. I've been told that you were there at the time," he said, flashing me a wink.

I stiffened slighting in my chair. Ozan never had the empathy or understanding that Ariane did, but I found this extremely untoward even for him. Surely he should know that the death of one's chosen god isn't something brought up casually with levity. From the corner of my eye I saw Ariane glance at me.

Ozan continued, oblivious of his blatant faux-pas. "Anyway, I met a hooded stranger that very night who asked me if I wanted to hear about the Empty Lord. I told him that I'd worship anyone who gave me full pockets, but not empty ones!" He laughed at his joke. "But the poor guy was annoyingly persistent so I caved in and listened. And what would you know – he made a lot of sense! I know what you're both thinking. That Ozan – he's the least pious guy on Gielinor, but hey when Gods come down to play you've got to pick a side!"

He raised his arms out as if imploring either of us to say something. When neither of us did, he continued unperturbed. "So I did my research and everything, didn't want to join the wrong side and all and I finally decided to…"

_Don't say it_ I thought. _Don't say it, don't say it._ But I knew what was coming.

"…pledge my allegiance to Zaros! It's been great so far, I've just spent ages in the Kharidian Desert recruiting other members. Never thought I'd go any more south of my Al Kharid but life is full of surprises! Zaros has a huge fan base there, and I've gotten many of his followers to move up north. We're all waiting for him to return now. I've been teaching many of them how to properly wield a bo…"

"So why did you come here then?" I interrupted. Even Ozan could detect the annoyance in my voice then.

"Well you see," he began, much of the enthusiasm in his voice now lost. "I've heard rumours that Guthix gave you a special ability to be god-proof and I'm here to recruit you, man!"

I couldn't believe what I had just heard, and took a moment to compose my response – "Why do you think I would ever fight for Zaros?"

"Why?" he repeated, as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. "Because Zaros is just like Guthix of course. He wants the world to fall to mortals too, but he just wants to stick around in the background to help us out a little. You know, be the silent force that guides our arrows and all."

"Just like Guthix?" I was standing up now. Ariane eyed both of us nervously. "A world where a god can influence mortals is no world that Guthix would have wanted. You might as well attach strings to us all for when Zaros becomes our puppet-master."

Ozan was no longer leaning on the wall. For the first time since I met him, his face looked serious. "Everywhere I went in the desert all I heard was 'Garviel this' and 'Garviel that'. Don't be a hypocrite and lecture me when you've done work just as hard for the Zarosian cause."

That was partially true. On an adventure once I did help rediscover the god Zaros and rescue his favourite Mahjarrat Azzandra. I had even helped renew a connection between the two of them. Azzandra himself and several other Zarosian Mahjarrat were friends of mine, but I could never and would never support their ideology.

"Do not compare what we have done," I said angrily. "You have recruited men, men that will fight and die needlessly in a pointless battle between the gods. What do you even truly know about Zaros? Nothing! Nobody does! And yet you fight for him! One of his followers killed Guthix! Why don't you run along and be a servant of Sliske now like some of the idiots down in Draynor are becoming?"

Ozan stepped forward, aggressively. His hand moved slightly towards his bow. I knew it was an involuntary movement but it made me tense. "And what do you think then Garviel? Do you truly believe that you alone can hold off all the gods? What happens when Guthix's naïve plan fails? Who would you see the world fall to? Ariane here tells me that you were speaking of Armadyl! Ha! A god who believes that all the other gods can live together in peace and harmony! Even more naïve than the dead Guthix!"

I felt naked without a sword. Part of me was grateful that I didn't have one with me because I wasn't sure I could restrain myself if I did. But most of me wanted Ozan to pay for this slight. I need not have a sword to hurt him; I always kept runes in my pockets for emergencies. My bare hands grew cold and icy with magical energy and I began to harness power for a magical water spell. I wasn't a great mage and a spell without a staff wouldn't do much damage, but it would definitely sting.

Ariane saw the magic building up in hands and immediately got up in between us. "Ozan, I'm sorry but I think it's time for you to leave." She looked flustered and worried.

Ozan didn't say a word. His face firm and featureless, he walked past me towards the portal. I didn't watch him go, but I heard a small zap that told me he had left the house.

Ariane was watching me closely with a particular look. I knew what that look meant – _This is war. War destroys friendships._ I regained myself and the magical energy in my hands subsided.

"Did you know he was here to tell me that?" I asked her finally.

"No…No," she stuttered. "He said he was here to deliver an important message."

She looked around and saw a letter laying on the parlour table. She grabbed it. "It's got a Misthilin seal," she remarked.

"Open it," I said, but she was already doing that.

She looked at the letter and I saw her eyes widen.

"Well, what does it say?" I asked impatiently.

"It's just one line," she said, reaching for her battlestaff. "The River Salve has finally dried."

I had been dreading this. Just like Ariane, I knew exactly what it meant. The godly interference on the planet had finally overwhelmed the holy river and caused it to lose its blessing.

A blessed River Salve had been the only thing that separated Misthilin from the horrors that lay waiting across its shores in Morytania. Right at this moment, I was certain, hordes of werewolves were making ready for battle.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-


	3. The Grass Is Greener On This Side

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Varrock - Gielinor's massive city of trade and commerce; the heart of Misthilin. News of the imminent threat had definitely spread to the populace. The fear was palpable. People were running in every direction, either trying to find shelter or trying to buy last minute rations which the vendors were selling at abnormal prices. Ariane and I walked through the crowd at a brisk pace towards the east gate.

A woman tugging at her confused and crying child knocked into Ariane and fell over. Ariane helped her up. "Make sure you get indoors. Everything will be okay," Ariane told her with a reassuring smile. The women didn't even reply, and just kept running with her child in tow until she was lost in the crowd.

There were much less people in the eastern side of the city. It was all but deserted near the city gate; people had clearly tried to get as far away from River Salve as possible. Almost every house here was boarded up with old wooden planks, and many had makeshift barricades set up at their entrances. I doubted they would serve as much of an obstacle should werewolves find a way into the city, but I was determined not to let it come to that.

Some Varrock guards were in the process of closing the city's massive gates from atop the city wall. They stopped to let us pass.

"The main force is already at the Holy River, milord," one of them informed me.

_It's not so holy anymore_, I thought to myself. Everyone knew the story behind the River Salve. In the late Fourth Age, the river had been blessed by seven priestly knights of Saradomin who effectively made it a barrier against the dark forces within Morytania who were seeking to expand their influence westwards. All the members of The Seven had died in the resultant Misthinlin-Morytania War, save for their leader Ivandis Seergaze, but their blessing on the Salve had held ever since. Well, until now.

It was a quite a distance up the road to the river. We widened our stride and quickened our pace once more. This was much easier for Ariane who, as a mage, was travelling much lighter than I. She once again wore her dark green robes, but had switched her fire battlestaff for a plain battlestaff of magic. She had acquired multiple runes for each of the four elemental spells and kept them secure in a pouch around her waist. Ariane had earlier informed me she had never fought werewolves before and so did not know what spell worked best against them. Fire spells definitely wouldn't be as effective out in the open as they were in the dark, damp caves of Waterbirth. Although not fully visible now, she had fastened an adamant dagger around the back of one of her legs. Around her neck she wore a blue sapphire amulet that she claimed amplified her magical power.

I was once again in my full plate armour. My heavy chestplate and tassets were firm and strong, as was all armour made by followers of Bandos. Although absent of any intricate detail or design, it was more than capable of taking multiple direct blows from werewolf attacks. My helmet was white and winged – I had received it as a gift several years ago and wore it to this day, proudly showing my allegiance to the Fremennik Island of Neitiznot. In a pouch across my waist I carried an amulet of fury, a magically crafted amulet designed to harness and recycle some of the rage and adrenaline from battle. I preferred to wear it only just before a fight, as when worn out of combat it had a tendency to haze thoughts and promote aggression. The Sword of Edicts was sheathed securely in its scabbard and I was eager to use the spectacular weapon once more. There was another weapon secured around my back, an old but trustworthy runite crossbow. Again I had opted not to bring a shield, and I hoped it was a decision I would not soon regret. The Sword of Edicts was not a particularly heavy sword, but I felt that I was more capable with it when I wielded it with both hands. The combined weight of my equipment slowed me down considerably as we rushed towards the river.

Finally, the River Salve came into view in the distance. Deep blue and calm, it looked no different from when it was blessed. Small battle tents and campsites littered the river's edge. There didn't seem to be many. Ariane was clearly thinking the same thing.

"There can't be more than four hundred men here," she said, making a quick estimation.

Four hundred men. Depending on the circumstances that could be enough to hold off a few waves from Morytania for now, but it was definitely no guarantee. If the werewolves had a trick or two under their sleeves, things could go very wrong indeed.

As soon as we arrived within the battle camp, a waiting soldier came up to me. "Garviel, your presence has been requested at the orange tent. King's orders." He marched off.

"The King?" said Ariane, surprised. "He's here?"

"I'd assume so," I replied. "This is the biggest threat Varrock has faced since the zombie invasion from the north."

The orange tent was not hard to locate, it was by far the largest tent in the camp, and was located right next to the massive Paterdomus Temple. Walking towards it we passed Varrock soldiers preparing for battle – sharpening their swords on whetstones, polishing their equipment, discussing fighting techniques around small fires. The soldiers were all equipped in full steel, with weapons to match. Several had bows around their shoulders too. While they were well equipped, the men themselves disappointed me. Most of them looked very young and just by watching a few of them spar made it evident how inexperienced they were. Most of the fighting men of Varrock had journeyed south weeks ago to help protect Lumbridge, or to fight under Saradomin or Zamorak. The men presently at camp most likely comprised of Varrock guardsmen and ordinary citizens hastily put together. However, I also noticed other figures around the camp - quite a few adventurers had travelled here to help in the fight. They all wore their own individual armour combinations and special weapons. A few of them looked slightly familiar, but I didn't know any by name. I observed that on the river's edge, several men were building some sort of wooden object, but I was unsure what it was.

Upon arriving at the tent, two soldiers guarding the entrance stepped aside to let us pass.

We entered the tent. King Roald, ruler of Misthilin, stood around a tactical map with his advisers and a few other soldiers. The King was armoured in his battle plate - steel armour not too different from his men, albeit with intricate patterns and designs carved into to the metal. In the place of a helmet he wore a remarkable golden crown with a large red ruby at its centre. The King himself looked rather old. He did not have grey hair yet but his face was craggy and full of lines; lines that betrayed the stress of being a king in these times. That he was leading this defence himself revealed much of the peril at stake.

"Garviel!" He said when he saw me. "The Hero of Varrock finally arrives! I'm glad that you got my message. And you've brought Ariane too, that's splendid - We could really use some magic in this fight."

"King Roald," Ariane and I said together with a slight nod of the head. Neither of us bowed or knelt, as was customary, but the King seemed neither to notice nor care.

"You've come at a good time," the King continued, leading us to his map. "We are soon about to move forward."

"Move forward?" I questioned.

"Yes, we are crossing the Salve."

Ariane was shocked. "Excuse me?" she asked, incredulously. "Why would we do that? The river may not be blessed but it's still a great natural barrier for us against the werewolves."

The King regarded her. His reasoning was as I suspected. "We cannot risk letting them cross. If any werewolves got loose of the battle they could cause havoc in my Kingdom. Varrock itself is dangerously short of guards. It is our only option to fight on the Morytanian side of the river."

"Is that wise?" I questioned. "It is a big risk to fight on their ground, I hope you realize that. How are we even going to cross?"

The King's eyes flashed with slight annoyance - he was not used to being questioned. But I knew that I was safe from his ire. After all, it had been me who had saved his beloved Varrock from Zemouregal's zombie invasion no more than a year ago.

The King answered, "My men are in the process of constructing a simple wooden bridge. If during the battle we a forced to fall back, we will simply burn it down after our retreat to prevent the werewolves from crossing it."

The strategy seemed relatively sound. Still, I was not too comfortable with it.

The King took deep swig from a rich wine bottle tied around his hip and motioned to the tent door. "I suggest you two get ready for battle. We need you both at your best today."

We left the tent and walked by the bank of the river. Nearby, the makeshift bridge was beginning to take shape but we still had a while to wait. Ariane sat down on the ground and I joined her.

Ariane played with the grass absent-mindedly as she stared across the river to the dark, swampy marshlands on its other side.

"What's it like?" she asked, her green eyes never leaving the land of Morytania. "I've never been there."

I looked across the river too. "Morytania isn't the type of place that most people would go to voluntarily." I said simply. "I've only been across a few times, each time only to help The Myreque."

"I've read about them," remarked Ariane. "They're secret paramilitary group trying to free Morytania from the grasp of Lord Drakan."

"Well, that's how the textbooks would describe them," I replied.

"And you?" asked Ariane, now watching me closely. "How would you describe them?"

"Brave," I said simply. "Brave, brave men trying to free their people."

I looked at the river, it's deep blue water flowing faster now.

"There's a city," I continued. "A city far away on the other side of Morytania called Meiyerditch. It's at least the size of Varrock, if not larger. The people there live in squalor and absolute fear, only kept alive for the blood tithes The Myreque is all that gives them hope. I promised myself that one day I will help free the people there from the nightmare they live within."

Ariane gave a slight sigh. "I can't imagine what they mu—". She broke off.

I turned to regard her. Her eyes were hazy and unfocused. She was having a vision.

"What did you see?" I asked as her eyes returned to normal.

"Nothing important for now," she replied. "I saw a red light within a tall tower. I've been having the same vision for a couple days, and each time the red light is larger."

"What do you think it means?"

Ariane brushed some hair out of her face, thinking. "I'm not sure. I'll go ask Orla Fairweather after all of this is all over."

"The divination expert? She's a Seer?"

"No," said Ariane, "But she knows how to harness the residual power in the world to help Seers like me with our visions. She's incredibly smart. She's just discovered how Guthix managed to banish the other gods from Gielinor at the end of the Third Age."

That confused me a little. "Really? How much could there be to it? Guthix was always much stronger that the other gods, I just reckoned that he simply used his power to banish them."

"So did I, but Orla has recently learnt that Guthix in fact harnessed the power of the other Gods against them. The more power they had on this world, the easier it was for them to be banished. That's the reason why some of the lower-tier smaller gods like some of those from the Desert Pantheon managed to remain here – they didn't have a lot of power to begin with. Not that it makes much difference now, but it's still a fascinating discovery."

This piece of information really intrigued me. I never knew Guthix could harness the power of other gods. Perhaps I ought to give this divination another shot, I might learn more about Him.

Ariane went back to fidgeting with the grass and starring across the Salve. My eyes lazily scanned the river bank. To my surprise, not too far away I saw a familiar figure clad in brown hide. Ozan was here. Of course he was, the King had sent him to summon me after all. Surrounding him were about a dozen men, each sporting their own longbow and a thick stack of arrows in quivers around their backs. They were all dark-skinned, and they were all wearing hide dyed deep purple. It was evident that these were some of his recruited desert Zarosians. Ozan, now sporting his famous yellow cape, was teaching them how to fire what looked like a special sort of arrow.

I looked away. Ariane hadn't noticed Ozan yet and I definitely wasn't going to tell her lest she attempt to form some sort of reconciliation meeting. I was done with Ozan now, and he was done with me. That much I was certain.

The sound of a horn tore me from my thoughts. The makeshift bridge had been completed, and soldiers all around were making ready to move. King Roald emerged from his tent and walked down to the river bank, accompanied by his personal retinue of bodyguards. They helped him up onto his battle horse. Upon confirmation that the bridge was secure, the King and his bodyguards crossed first. A line of soldiers formed behind them.

Ariane and I got up and joined the line to cross. The soldiers nearby looked agitated and nervous. Just like Ariane, this would be their first time in Morytania. A priest had emerged from the nearby Paterdomus Temple and was blessing soldiers as they crossed the bridge.

"No thanks," I said as he turned to me. The old priest looked rather dumbfounded as I stepped onto the bridge. It had been quickly assembled, with no railings and some uneven plankwork, but I could tell that it was sturdy. It took a few dozen strides to cross; the River Salve was quite wide.

I stepped onto the marshy land of Morytania, Ariane beside me. It seemed more likely that we had just passed into a different world, rather than merely cross a river. Tall, crooked trees surrounded us, the ground was muddy but was covered with the green moss that littered the entire area. Somehow it seemed much darker on this side of the river. And just like always in Morytania, there was that unnerving sense that you were being watched. All the soldiers around me looked tense and even Ariane seemed slightly perturbed. That feeling would take a while to get used to.

The soldiers that had crossed first with King Roald were now busy at work chopping down nearby trees and carving them into spikes to place in the ground, a clear defensive manoeuvre. A few of the volunteer adventurers were helping them. King Roald was shouting out orders to get in position.

The battle would soon begin.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

It had been over an hour since we had crossed the River Salve, and there had been no movement. I stood at the front of the battle-party, a few soldiers away from King Roald atop his horse. Ariane was beside me, leaning slightly on her battlestaff. Nothing had stirred at all, but the feeling of being watched had persisted on staying. The only movement was from the soldiers who occasionally had to lift their boots from the mud to prevent themselves being stuck in place.

"Do the werewolves even know they can pass the river now?" I heard a young, agitating soldier whisper behind me.

"Of course they do, idiot." another soldier answered.

I stared forward. The main Morytania treeline was around two-hundred metres away from our current position near the riverbank. It was impossible to see beyond it, the tall trees were packed close together and prevented much sunlight from reaching below the canopy.

Then I saw it.

Two small red dots in the darkness. I had been staring at the treeline for so long that I initially didn't register what I had seen. But I soon realized what they were. Eyes. Werewolf eyes.

A single long howl pierced the silence.

King Roald raised his sword. "Archers, ready your bows!" he ordered.

The soldiers all began to bustle about. The long wait had increased the tension tenfold, but now something was finally happening. Soldiers with bows loaded them with arrows and raised their weapons to aim for the treeline. Those without bows had unsheathed their swords, longswords or battle-axes. A few other adventurers took out the bows they had brought too, but I kept my crossbow across my back for now, it was hardly effective at such long-range. Ariane readied her staff, clutching it tight with both hands, its tip beginning to bristle with power.

The first werewolves emerged from the treeline. They were big, slightly taller than the average soldier, and their skin was covered with light grey fur. Their faces were canine with horribly red eyes, their maws full of sharp teeth dripping with saliva. Their arms were strong and muscular, tipped with four sharp claws on massive paws.

There were a lot of them. At the sight of us they charged, leaping and bounding on all fours.

"Volley!" yelled the King. There was the loud _fling_ sound as many soldiers released their arrows in perfect union. The first row of werewolves were decimated by the rain of arrows. I saw at least five take an arrow to the neck and fall back dead. Yet even more were being hit and carrying on. I saw a werewolf take an arrow to the hip, pull it out, and carry on bounding forward, albeit with a limp. Werewolves were notorious for the amount of damage they could take before finally succumbing.

"Volley!" yelled the King again, and another group of arrows shot into the sky. I noticed that the werewolves charging the left flank were taking considerably more casualties than the main group. I glanced down our line and saw Ozan and his Zarosian archers, their shots clearly more accurate than those of the standard Varrock soldier.

More and more werewolves kept bursting from the tree lines; it was impossible to say exactly how many there were, but I was sure there were much more than a hundred. The werewolves that had survived the first two arrow volleys were closing in now.

It was time for me to enter the fight.

I reached into my pouch and put on my amulet of fury. Instantly the surrounding area became a little blurred, but I saw the oncoming werewolves with perfect clarity and detail. I reached behind my back for my runite crossbow. It felt reassuringly heavy in my hands.

I took aim and shot four times in quick succession. My first shot missed but my next two bolts buried themselves into the chest of a werewolf who fell over hard. My fourth bolt struck right between the eyes of another incoming werewolf, the force slamming its head back like a sledgehammer; it was dead before it hit the ground.

The closest werewolves had reached our defensive wooden spikes. Most of them were agile enough to pass in-between the spikes without losing momentum, but a few impaled themselves.

"Volley!" yelled King Roald one final time. "And then swords out!" Another wave of arrows shot into the incoming tide of werewolves, but it was far less effective than the first two as the soldiers with bows quickly hastened to switch to their close-combat weapons.

I fired three more sporadic shots from my crossbow. I saw one bolt nestle deep in the thigh of an incoming werewolf but I missed the outcome the other two. In one fluid movement I slung the crossbow back over my shoulder and unsheathed the Sword of Edicts, the translucent green blade glowing as it caught rays of sunlight. The werewolves were just about upon us now, baring teeth and growling.

_Guthix, I guard your world. _

The werewolf tide slammed into the ranks of the Misthilin army with incredible force. Soldiers everywhere were slashed, bitten, or simply thrown backwards. A large werewolf lunged straight at me, red eyes ablaze with ferocity. I slapped aside its clumsy strike and thrust the Sword of Edicts through its chest. Incredibly sharp, the weapon cut clean through the creature with frightening ease. I pulled out fast and slashed two-handed against the werewolf coming in behind, decapitating it before it saw the sword. With the same momentum I spun to slash out again, slicing a fatal blow through the abdomen of another, the werewolf falling to the ground clutching its midriff in a vain attempt to stop its intestines from escaping.

The werewolf coming at Ariane was shot far back with an incredible wind strike. Although not strong enough to kill the creature, it landed hard on another incoming werewolf and the two began to fight each other. Ariane thrust her staff forward again and her magic tore out a chunk off ground in front of a sprinting werewolf. Unable to slow its speed, the creature tripped and fell hard, breaking its jawbone on the ground. Ariane hurled the levitating piece of earth onto another werewolf and hit it square in the face, its neck snapping sideways with the force.

The soldier beside me was knocked over by the strength of a charging werewolf. I shoulder-barged the creature off him and stabbed it through the neck but when I turned around the soldier was being ravaged by yet another werewolf. I slashed at it furiously - the creature gave out a low howl and went limp, dead just like the soldier beneath it.

I took a second to take measure of the battle. I saw a werewolf slice its pair of claws into the chest of another soldier, cutting clean through his steel plate. I saw a young soldier lunge with his battle-axe and whack a werewolf right in its face, shattering teeth and bone. I saw an adventurer bury his red scimitar into the chest of werewolf with an incredibly fast one-handed thrust. I saw a Zarosian archer fatally shoot no less than three werewolves with quickly-fired arrows just before a large one brought him down.

The initial blow of the werewolf strike had been very costly but it seemed now like the Misthilin forces had the upper hand. Slowly the unit began pushing forward, driving the werewolves back.

I hacked at the neck of another werewolf, my sword now so completely covered in blood that not a single Edict could be seen. Nearby I saw an adventurer get fully lifted and thrown down by a massive werewolf with such force that I could hear the unnerving sound of bones breaking. The adventure's features contorted to one of pure anguish as he yelled out. I realized that I recognised his face. I remembered once meeting him in the dwarven city of Keldagram; we had shared a beer and laughed, remarking that we were the only two humans in the area. The werewolf brought down a massive paw and ended him. I realized that I had never known the adventurer's name, and now I never would.

With a roar of my own, I charged at the enormous creature. It dodged my two-hand blow and it kicked me hard in the chest. I fell down heavily but managed to roll just before the creature pounded its claws down into the ground where I had landed. With its claws stuck deep in the mud, it turned its head to growl furiously at me, spittle landing on my face. With one clean strike, the Sword of Edicts tore through its exposed neck, separating head from body.

Looking around, I saw the Misthilin forces were advancing steadily. A few of the smaller werewolves began to whine and ran back towards the treeline. I swung my sword around, catching another two werewolves in its arc. One of them survived the blow and limped away, howling weakly. I walked over and stabbed it as it crawled. All around, werewolves were falling back now. The last few still engaged were outnumbered and died in a clash of steel.

I took out my crossbow once more and shot a couple bolts into the backs of the retreating creatures. Several soldiers with bows followed suite, firing at the werewolves before they reached the shelter of the trees.

"Forward!" yelled the King suddenly. "Into the trees! Don't stop until we kill them all!" His horse charged forward after the werewolves. All over, Varrock soldiers raised their weapons and ran after him with an uproar of euphoric battle-cries.

I glanced back at Ariane. She had just shot a powerful blast of air at a fleeing werewolf and her hair was flying back as some of the residual wind blew at her. Her skin glistening, her chest heaving, her green eyes full of severity – she had honestly never looked more attractive.

She walked up to me, breathing heavily. I read slight bewilderment on her face, and I knew exactly why. I shared the sentiment.

"What on earth is he doing?" she asked. "The battle is won, the werewolves are routing. Why is he following them into the woods?"

I looked back at the charging King, over three hundred men following close behind.

"Misplaced bravery or just too much adrenaline. Pick your poison."

"Aren't we going to be following him then?" asked Ariane. The King and his men had just past the treeline, and were now basically out of sight.

I squatted down to regain some energy. Ozan and his archers had stayed behind, as had several of the adventures, all of them acknowledging the stark danger of entering the Morytanian forest in such a blind attack. Most of them were tending to the injured or finishing off dying werewolves. None of them showed any inclination of following the King.

"Do we have to?"

Ariane gave me a look. "You know we do."

"Then let's go," I said, getting up and resting the Sword of Edicts on my shoulder.

We walked up to the treeline. Upon reaching, the first thing we noticed was that it was eerily quiet.

"Why's it so quiet?" asked Ariane. "The battle-host can't be more than a couple hundred metres away."

"These dense forests find a way of eating up the noise," I answered. "Come on, we'll find them."

The closely packed trees of the Morytanian forest made it dark, but enough light pervaded the thick canopy to allow us to see where we were going. The trees themselves were an unhealthy sheen of dark brown, verging on black. Moss stained their lengths and their thick roots were covered in mushrooms of all sizes. Unlike any other forest, not a single animal could be seen or heard. I had the sense that I was being watched, but then again everyone had that feeling in Morytania.

As we went deeper into the woods the distance between the trees grew greater. After a minute or so of walking the trees were dispersed enough to allow for a good amount of sunlight although the surroundings added a gloomy touch to everything.

"Stop," I whispered to Ariane suddenly. I had just seen something leaning on a tree nearby. At first I had thought the thing was a wounded soldier but it wearing no armour so I discounted that theory straight away. It was short, two heads shorter than the average human, with a hunched back and a pug face with long pointed ears. Its small arms ended in fingers with sharp nails, and two small fangs protruded out of its mouth. And it had heard us. Turning to regard Ariane and I, it stepped forward curiously.

"What is that thing?" asked Ariane, as it stepped closer.

"Vampyre Juvenile," I said, clutching my sword tight and pointing it straight at the creature. "Vampyres are normally found much, much deeper into Morytania. Never this close."

The vampyre, seemingly losing interest, turned to head back to its tree. I relaxed a little and lowered my weapon.

All of a sudden, it gave out a loud screech, turned and charged right at me. Acting fast I thrust my sword out. It caught the creature in the chest and it dropped over, dead.

"Well that wasn't too bad," remarked Ariane.

As soon as she said it, another vampyre juvenile dropped out of a nearby tree. Then another. Then another. Four. Five. Eight of them. Ten. Twelve. They closed in.

I leapt forward and sliced a nearby one clean in two. Another tried to jump on me, but I kicked it away – the force enough to kill it. Two more ran forward together, a low thrust killed them both. These weak creatures were no challenge at all, especially to someone who had just fought against werewolves.

Ariane set one ablaze with a flick of her staff and killed another with a powerful thrust of air. Another one leapt towards her and she froze it solid, the creature turning into a small ice statue before breaking to pieces on the ground.

I slashed up with the Sword of Edicts to kill a juvenile and brought the weapon down upon another. One tried to pounce on my back but I smacked it away with the broad of the sword.

The last one jumped at Ariane out of nowhere but just before it made contact she managed to shoot it with a bolt of air. But she had failed to realize that I was in the line of sight of her magical shot. The vampyre juvile collided into me and the force of the wind spell threw me back. I crashed hard into a nearby tree and slumped to the ground, the juvenile on my lap. I had cushioned its impact and while I was momentarily dazed it leapt onto my leg and bit deep into the exposed flesh between my tassets and boots.

I yelled out. Ariane ran over, knocked the vampyre off with her staff and set it ablaze. Its teeth had been small, but blood was dripping out fast from the cut in my leg. Ariane knelt down next to me and examined the wound.

"I'm sorry!" she said apologetically, "I'm sorry, it just jumped out…I should have aimed, I've never seen one before today, I was surprised…"

"It's okay, Ariane," I said, looking at her. She seemed really dismayed. It didn't really even matter - I could already feel the blood beginning to clot around my wound. It wasn't nearly as bad as it looked.

"Do you need a cleansing spell?" she asked, "I'm no expert at that sort of magic but I can try…"

"Hey," I said, lifting up Ariane's chin so she faced me. "It's just…fine."

I realised how close her face was to mine. We had never been this close before. Her deep green eyes were etched with worry, she was biting her bottom lip. She was absolutely stunning.

Ever so slightly, she moved her face forward. Her full lips were now pursed.

I kissed her. Her lips pressed into mine, soft and warm. We held the pose for a few, precious moments. She pulled away slightly. Our lips parted but our noses still touched.

I wasn't ready to end it just yet. My hand gently around her neck, I pulled her in for another, stronger kiss. I moved my mouth around hers, angling to make for better access to her lips, deepening the kiss. For a moment I forgot that we were on the ground of a Morytanian forest, I forgot about the pain in my leg, I forgot about the battle at hand, I forgot about the return of the Gods, I forgot about being the World Guardian. Nothing else mattered except the feel of Ariane's lips upon mine.

A horn blew in the distance. A battle horn. Ariane and I broke apart, and I was suddenly brought back to reality. The moment was over.

I got back to my feet.

"That's the King's horn," I said, helping Ariane up though not really looking directly at her. "They can't be too far and we've got to catch up and warn them fast."

"Why?" asked Ariane, slightly flustered. "Those vampyres didn't seem like much of a threat."

"No, they didn't," I agreed. "But those aren't the only type of vampyres in these woods."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-


	4. The World Can Wait Its Turn

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Passing through to a clearing in the woods, Ariane and I finally found King Roald and his men. The Misthilin soldiers and volunteer adventurers had seemingly caught up with the main group of fleeing werewolves and they were busy in the process of slaughtering the few remaining creatures. A few soldiers tensed when they saw our figures emerge from the trees, but returned to their work upon realizing it was just us.

The King turned to regard us.

"You two missed out!" he said merrily from atop his horse. "We've killed off almost all these fleeing monsters. I say, I'm surprised you two weren't here, you're normally always in the thick of-"

I cut him off. "You've got to order your men back to the river. Right now. There's vampyres in these woods."

The King took a moment to grasp what I had just said. His smile wavered.

"Impossible," he said, shaking his head. "Vampyres are never found this close to the border. There's no possible way."

"It's true," said Ariane, stepping forward. "Garviel and I just fought some of them."

"No." said the King, albeit with less conviction. "I'm telling you, there's no way…"

"Roald." I looked straight at the King, eyes dark and serious. "There are vampyres in these woods."

The King's face turned white.

"Form up, now!" he yelled to his men. "Prepare to fall back at my command!"

Confused, soldiers all around ceased their slaughter of the routing werewolves and moved to get back in position. I turned to Ariane and motioned for her to walk with me. She smiled wearily.

Suddenly, from within the nearby shadows, there came a cackle. Everyone in the clearing froze. Injured werewolves still alive began to whine and furiously struggle to crawl away.

Stepping into the sunlight, a figure emerged. Tall and thin, in frame it looked alarmingly human-like but its skin was an unhealthy sheen of dark grey. The vampyre's ears were pointed and its nose was comprised of two slits. The creature radiated evil. This was no juvenile, it was a juvinate. Its mouth stretched and two long fangs protruded out. It took me moment to realise that it was smiling.

The nearest soldier lashed out with his longsword. With stunning speed, the juvinate smacked away the attack and bit deep into the soldier's exposed neck. The soldier's scream pierced the newfound silence. No one else in the clearing had even stirred.

Five more juvinates appeared from the shadows behind the first. One of them was a light shade of blue. They cackled.

"Kill them!" yelled the King. Regaining their senses, his soldiers charged forwards towards the six woefully outnumbered vampyres.

The Sword of Edicts held tightly in both hands, I ran forward to meet one. Unarmed, it slashed at me with its sharp claws, but I parried the blow. I thrust with my sword but the juvinate dodged the strike. I thrust again and once more the creature manoeuvred out of the way. Incredible as its reflexes were, it was easy to learn the vampyre's defensive movements. I feigned a low pelvic strike and then immediately brought my sword up to the left with a stabbing lunge. I struck the juvinate square in the chest, the Sword of Edicts driven clean through him.

But no blood emerged. I looked up at the impaled vampyre who looked right back at me, completely unharmed. Slowly, it wrapped its hands around the blade of my razor-sharp sword and pulled it out of his chest. When the whole sword was free, there was no hole in the creature's chest where the weapon had just been. No wound, no cut, not even a scratch.

It slashed at my head and I fell to the ground. It made to pounce on me but was forced to turn its attentions to another soldier who sought to bring it down. Lying on the floor, a long trickle of blood ran down my face. I saw the other vampyres slaughtering soldiers and adventurers alike. Although many men were scoring direct strikes upon the juvinates, the creatures acted as if they did not even feel the blows. Some soldiers with bows were shooting the juvinates with arrows from point-blank range, but the vampyres did not even flinch. They slashed out at the men, bringing them down and biting their necks before striking them dead.

Ariane was holding off one vampyre with repeated air strikes, the tip of her staff glowing bright with the exertion of the constant magical attacks. Although the juvinate wasn't harmed by the spell, the force of it still thrust him back.

Soldiers everywhere were beginning to run away.

"Fall back!" shouted the King. "Fall back across the river now!" The few soldiers brave enough to wait for their King's command turned to run, ceasing their futile attempts to kill or even harm one of the vampyres. Some of them even dropped their weapons, recognising how pointless they were against such a foe. The vampyres continued their relentless attacks, jumping down upon fleeing men and biting deep into their necks before finishing them off. This was no longer a battle; it was a massacre.

I saw a fleeing mage adventurer, the only mage in the battle-party apart from Ariane, trip over a tree root and fall down hard. On the floor he conjured up a defensive wall of fire to keep off an advancing vampyre, the flames blue-hot. The vampyre simply walked through the scorching flames and slashed through the neck of the fallen adventurer.

My daze over, I got up and righted myself. I heard a yell and turned to see the blue vampyre charging straight at the King. With a single strike, the bare-handed juvinate slashed at the King's battle-horse, slaying the animal. King Roald fell down to the ground hard, his golden crown falling off and bouncing away into the shrubberies. One of his body-guards stepped forward to protect him but the vampyre disposed of him with ease.

Ariane bent to help up the King and then shot the juvinate back with a bolt of magic.

"Get you and your men to safety now!" she told the King, shoving him back in the direction of the river. "We'll try and hold them off as long as we can!"

I had no idea how Ariane planned to do that, but I ran over towards her. A juvinate lunged at me out of nowhere and I just about managed to right myself in time to punch it away with the hilt of my sword. But the force of the blow could only knock back the vampyre so far, and it immediately got up to tackle me again. I hefted up the Sword of Edicts into the most threatening pose I could muster, but I knew the creature could not possibly be fearful of something that could not harm it. All of a sudden, another unseen vampyre leapt at me from behind, landing on my back with its body weight and sending me crashing to the ground. The other vampyre jumped on me too, leaving me breathless and unable to move.

Pinned to the floor, face flat on the cool Morytanian mud, I saw Ariane shoot a juvinate off me with yet another wind strike. But what she didn't notice was that the blue vampyre was sneaking up on her from the shadows.

"Look out!" I yelled.

Ariane turned fast, but it was too late. The blue vampyre snatched the staff right out of her hands and knocked her hard across the head with it. The light left Ariane's green eyes and she fell to the ground, unconscious.

I struggled as hard as I could to get up, but the vampyre Ariane had shot off was upon me again. I felt an incredibly unnerving sensation as one of the vampyres atop me lifted my head with its clawed hands, its sharp fingertips drawing blood from my scalp. Yet it wasn't angling my head for better access to my neck. It was turning me back to the direction of Ariane and the blue vampyre looming above her. The sadistic creature was going to make me watch.

Completely helpless, pinned down by the weight of two vampyre juvinates, I was forced to watch as the blue vampyre above Ariane lifted up a claw to strike into her vulnerable neck.

_It can't end like this…Not now…Not after we just…_

A single arrow pierced the head of the blue vampyre. It fell down, dead.

The weight of the vampyres above me lessened as the two juvinates looked at their fallen kin with confusion. I heard a slight sound as two more arrows shot out from somewhere in the trees. Both hit the vampyres above me square in their abdomens, and they fell over, blood oozing out around the puncture wounds.

The clearing was now completely silent. I picked myself up and kicked over one of the dying vampyres. The tip of the blood-stained arrowhead protruding from its back glistening in the sunlight. It was made from silver. I turned back to the trees to look for my rescuer. All I managed to see was the flash of a yellow cape.

I ran over to examine Ariane. She was out cold. I knew I didn't have much time until the other vampyres found their way back to the clearing, and I was certain more would soon arrive from deeper in the woods. Sheathing my sword, I bent down and lifted Ariane up in my arms. She was heavier than I thought.

I heard a cackle from the shadows.

Ariane securely in my arms, I ran.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The long procession of weary men led down the road to Varrock. Dozens of horse-driven wagons full of injured or dying men were being ridden back to the city. Everywhere soldiers were packing up their small tents and belongings for the return march. A considerable amount of tents remained untouched and untendered, the belongings of the many soldiers who hadn't make it back across the Salve.

The crude bridge had already been set alight by the time I had reached it, my run back greatly slowed from carrying Ariane all the way. I had managed to get us across just before the fire had engulfed all of the wood completely, and my skin was now dotted with several minor burns. I did not begrudge King Roald for ordering the fire to be lit before Ariane and I had made it back; he had to do what he must to protect his kingdom.

Ariane still in my arms, I stood on the Misthilin river bank, looking across at the vampyre juvinates huddled on the other side. There were many of them, at least thirty in number. The Salve had apparently not lost all of its power just yet, which was what kept the vampyres at bay for now. The River Salve had once been so powerful that creatures as evil as these could not stand being anywhere near to it. Now they stood close, dipping their toes into the water to test it just as a child would before getting into a hot bath.

Once it became evident that the vampyres could not cross the river just yet or risk being slightly burnt, the King had ordered a hasty retreat ("tactical shift") to Varrock. He had learnt of the vampyres' weakness to silver from Ozan and his Zarosian archers, and sent a messenger forward to the city to decree that all silver jewellery, ornaments and adornments were to be collected, melted down, and quickly forged into makeshift weapons for his remaining men. Until those weapons were available, King Roald had no choice but to keep his army behind the city walls, away from the almost-impregnable vampyres.

His plan was necessary of course, but a lot of concessions had to have been made. With the Misthilin army hidden behind Varrock's walls, the route was clear for any vampyre or other Morytanian creature to cross the River Salve and spread throughout Misthilin, simply bypassing Varrock if they wished. Farmers, fishers and basically anyone else outside the city were going to be completely unprotected and unguarded. It was very unlikely that the Misthilin towns of Edgeville or Draynor could produce any decent form of independent resistance to a threat this large.

I turned from the Salve and began walking up the road, the first steps on what was going to be a very long trek back to the city. I just hoped we'd make it back before the river's blessing fully dried out. I looked down at the mage in my arms. Ariane's red hair fell wildly across her face as I carried her. Her eyelids were shut tight but I could tell her eyes were moving around involuntarily underneath; it was likely that she was having some sort of dream. I was drawn to her lips, which were partially open as she breathed. It was hard to belief that just a little more than an hour ago those lips had been locked around my own. She looked so peaceful now in her unconscious state, but I knew she would awake soon and she would not be happy with the King's plan at all, no matter how necessary it was. For now, I was just glad that she was safe.

With that thought, I looked around. Ozan was still at the side of his Zarosian archers. Ten of the purple-clad desert men remained, which meant that two had fallen during the initial werewolf attack. But Ozan and his men were not on the road – they were gathered together near the large excavation site, on a large hill overlooking the river. A few of his men were sitting down on the grass, and as a whole the group were showing no signs of any intention to follow the troop-line back to the city. Misthilin soldiers did not question why these men were staying behind, the desert people were strange with their far-off features and unheard-of god.

Realization hit me hard. Between the River Salve and Varrock was the Digsite, a massive archaeological excavation area and once, in an age long past, part of the Zarosian capital of Senntisten. Deep underneath the Digsite now lay the Temple of Senntisten, a temple that currently contained the power to forge a weak yet resilient link to the god Zaros himself. It was very possible that a wondering vampyre could find its way into the Temple, and destroy the link. With Zaros's return to Gielinor not yet achieved, that link was priceless.

No full-blooded Zarosian could allow for such a thing to happen, that much I understood, but Ozan and his men must know that to try to hold back a vampyre tide from Morytania with just the eleven of them would be suicide. Looking back across the river, I saw that the number of vampyres had at least doubled to sixty, with more pouring free from the woods. Even with the King's whole remaining army the effort would be futile, no matter how many silver arrows they had.

Yet Ozan stood looking onwards calmly, yellow cape flying serenely in the breeze, despite his inevitable fate being all but assured. I hadn't spoken to him at all during the battle. And yet still he had come forward into the woods to check on us. He had saved my life. He had saved Ariane's life. I looked down at the beautiful mage in my arms, and remembered the look of her face after my furious argument with Ozan - "_This is war. War destroys friendships." _Leaving Ozan now would be like letting the war win. Letting the Gods win. I knew what I had to do.

I jogged over to Aeonisig Raispher, one of the King's advisers who was organising the soldiers at the back of the march. The old grey-haired man had helped plan the King's initial battle strategy, but was deemed too old to cross the river and fight.

"Advisor Raispher," I said to the man, who turned curiously to regard me. "A year ago I saved Varrock from Zemouregal's invasion and the King said that the city would forever be in my debt. I want to take him up on his word. Take this woman back to Varrock and keep her safe, and I will consider the debt repaid. But you must not question why I am leaving her or why I am staying behind."

The old man looked startled at my request, but after a few moments nodded his head. "As you wish, Garviel." He helped me lay Ariane down carefully in a nearby wagon, and I shook his hand thankfully. Taking one last look at Ariane, I turned back and walked off the road to Ozan.

As I walked up the hill, I knew that what I was doing was stupid. From my perspective, this was going to be the most pointless last-stand there ever was. There was going to be no walking away from this, of that I was certain. And yet, it felt right.

Ozan was still calmly watching the river when I stood beside him. From the corner of my eye I saw the brief look of surprise on his face. He didn't ask me why I was here, he didn't take my hand in comradeship, he didn't slap me across the back. He simply unclasped a weapon from across his belt and tossed it over to me.

"You're gonna need that," he said.

I caught the silver dagger cleanly and examined it. It was a plain weapon, with no special ornamentation or design, and it could not be more than seven inches long. But the silver blade was sharp, and the wooden grip was sturdy. It was going to have to do.

We stood there for a long time in silence. Behind us the Misthilin party slowly trudged off into the distance, until it was down the road further than the eye could see. The sun began to set and the whole area was lit in an orange sheen. I tried not to think of Ariane. I hoped that when she eventually awoke she would understand my decision.

Across the River Salve, well over two hundred vampyre juvinates were poking and prodding at the water. The taller ones managed to put a whole leg in. Soon some managed to put both legs in, and began to wade across the river. As they waded, they thrashed about in slight discomfort as the Salve's remaining blessing marginally burnt them. Ozan motioned to his men and they got ready, placing silver arrows in their bows and lifting their weapons to take aim.

Idly I wondered how people would remember me once I was gone. Garviel the Goof was a name that came to mind. Guthix's chosen guardian who idiotically gave his life trying to hold back a vampyre horde from Morytania with just eleven archers. People would never understand my actions, but I was okay with that. Truth be told, I didn't fully understand my actions either.

A few archers started taking shots. With no king giving orders, they simply fired at will. Silver arrows flew down to the river and struck the vulnerable swimming vampyres, killing several outright. Many more took non-fatal hits to their thighs, hips and shoulders, hindering their swim and causing them to sink deep down to the river bed. I wasn't sure if these creatures could drown, but if not the river's burning sensation would provide the sunken vampyres with a slow and agonising death. All the Zarosian archers were firing now, including Ozan.

The first few vampyres who survived the swim dragged themselves onto the Misthilin shore. Despite the incoming rain of arrows, they cackled at the sky. This was the first time their kind had been on this land in such number in what had to be hundreds of years. The soaking vampyres took a moment to explore around the abandoned campsites where Misthilin soldiers had grouped around only this morning. Zarosian archers fired furiously down at them from atop our hill. Yet more now were making it across the river, and far off into the distance I could just make out more vampyres pouring from the Morytanian tree-line.

With sufficient numbers now on this side of the river, the vampyre juvinates began their charge up the hill. I gripped the silver dagger tighter around my hand. I could see the whites of their eyes now, the burns scorched into their sickly grey skin.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you," said Ozan all of a sudden, breaking our silence. He tossed something to the ground by my feet. "Look what I found. How much do you think it's worth?"

I looked down and saw a thick golden crown adorned with a large red ruby. Despite everything, I laughed. Ozan laughed too. We stood together atop our hill laughing like mad men as the bloodthirsty, water-dripping vampyre hoard charged up towards us, ready to send us to our inevitable deaths.

The leading vampyres were very close now. Dagger gripped tightly, I bit back my laughter ran forward to meet them; I knew that it was up to me to keep them off the archers. I shoulder-barged into the first vampyre, sending it flying back down the hill. I spun around with the force of the blow and stabbed another juvinate in the face with the dagger, burying the blade in its cranium up to the hilt. I pulled it out and thrust again, striking another in the chest. The vampyre wailed and I had to stab again before it fell over. It felt good to slay these creatures.

Already I was being swarmed by the tide of incoming juvinates. Claws scratched at my armour. I had to lash around wildly with my woefully short weapon, striking anything near. Silver arrows struck water-drenched vampyres all around me, ending them sometimes even as a lunged at them with my dagger.

I couldn't draw the attention of all of the upcoming vampyres and many were now going straight for the Zarosian archers. I saw one of the desert men go down as a vampyre leapt on him, bit his neck, and slashed his throat open. I saw another Zarosian archer shove his friend out of the way just before he was brought down by a pair of juvinates who mutilated him together.

I slashed with my dagger, aiming for the neck of a vampyre but instead struck his shoulder blade. The juvinate bent down with an agonised screech and kicked it hard, sending it rolling to the bottom of the hill.

Ozan was firing quick shots with his bow, sending arrows through the heads of vampyres getting too close to him. His hands were a blur, rapidly reloading from his quiver even as he released his hand for shots. He didn't even need to aim at such close range. Still, he was fast getting surrounded.

I ran towards him and stabbed my dagger through the hip of a vampyre nearby. Ozan turned to face me and shot an arrow, striking a vampyre just behind my shoulder. All around, Zarosian archers were falling.

"You've made your point, Garviel!" yelled Ozan as he shot another juvinate. "But you're the World Guardian and you must not die today! Get out of here now! Damn it, the world still needs you!"

I lunged with my dagger and struck a vampyre that was just about to slash open Ozan's back with its claws. "The world can wait its turn," I replied, pulling the weapon out.

I stabbed another vampyre in the neck but was pulled over as yet another wrapped its claws around my arm and tugged. I fell down on my side. I saw an arrowhead pierce the chest of the juvinate as it sought to pounce, but had to evade as another vampyre leapt towards me. I stabbed up into its chest but before the juvinate died it slashed at my face hard, sending me down on my back and knocking off my helmet.

Another water-soaked vampyre leapt down upon me and I moved to strike it but the creature ripped the silver dagger from my hand. Before I could do anything about it, the vampyre threw my dagger backwards far off to the bottom of the hill. Losing the only weapon I had that could harm it, I tried to kick the juvinate off but it pinned my legs down with its weight. In vain I unsheathed the Sword of Edicts and stabbed up clean through the vampyre's stomach until the tip of the blade protruded from its back. Despite being impaled, the vampyre looked back at me face to face with that all-too-familiar painless expression.

This was the end.

From the corner of my eye I saw another vampyre slash out and whack the bow from Ozan's grip. Ozan backed off slowly, he too had only moments left.

The vampyre above me lowered its head to my neck. I could feel the heat of its breath on my exposed skin. I looked up at the uncaring orange sky, waiting for the inevitable. I felt the tip of its fangs. There would be no arrow to save me now. No spell. No blade. Nothing had ever been to clear than the realization that I was about to meet my end.

I was going to die.

_Forgive me, Guthix._

Two sharp fangs pierced the tout skin of my neck. I yelled out from the searing pain as the vampyre juvinate began to suck the blood from my body. I could literally feel the liquid inside of me flowing up to my neck as the vampyre greedily lapped up as much as it could.

After what seemed like an eternity, it raised its head, mouth dripping red with blood. I knew what was coming next – the vampyre was going to slash my neck open. The vampyre lifted a clawed hand, but then did something that I could not have possibly predicted.

It screamed.

The vampyre juvinate's head was lifted and it was screaming louder than I thought was physically possible. It was not just the sound of the scream, it was its nature. The juvinate screamed out in such agonisingly horrible pain that every single other vampyre and all the remaining humans stopped mid-action to look at it. The juvinate's skin began to turn brown and flake, falling off from its body. Steam emanating from the tortured creature rose up into the evening sky. Its screams continued, its pain unrelenting.

Why was this happening to it? Still on the ground, I looked up at the creature and saw the dried blood around its mouth. My blood. True, the power of Guthix had flowed within my veins since I was made World Guardian, but the power was specifically meant not to have any influence against mortals. And hadn't a much smaller vampyre juvenile sucked the same blood from my leg in Morytania without being harmed at all?

With sudden clarity, I remembered what Ariane had told me earlier in the day. Guthix could harness the power of the other gods. A little bit of Saradomin's blessing still remained in the River Salve, which was why the vampyres received burns upon crossing it. The vampyre that had bitten me had still been soaked from the river water.

I looked at the Sword of Edicts. It was still impaled in the stomach of the burning vampyre, although the edict-adorned blade itself was not harmed at all. Even though it was written in an ancient language, I knew exactly what one of those edicts meant – There shall be no war between gods or their followers. The River Salve had been blessed by followers of Saradomin, but it did serve as a barrier to prevent a war with the evil Zamorakian forces from the east.

Could it be possible that my blood was harnessing the power of Saradomin to uphold an Edict of Guthix? Could it be possible that the once holy River Salve could regain its former effect? When the vampyre had sucked my blood, the river water upon its skin had begun to burn it again, although this time with the full might of the Salve's former power.

I got up slowly. The screams from the vampyre grew softer and softer, while somehow maintaining the same aura of pain. Finally, the creature fell over dead and the screams ended. It was burnt black.

The silence was unsettling.

Ozan reacted first. The archer pulled a silver arrow from his quiver and stabbed at the exposed neck of the vampyre that had unarmed him. The three remaining Zarosian archers followed suite and started firing at vampyre juvinates, who still had not fully recovered from that what they had just seen.

If the Salve could truly regain its power…

"Cover me!" I heaved the Sword of Edicts out of the crumbling vampyre body and ran down the hill to the river. Ozan and his men did not fully understand what had just happened, but I was sure they recognized its significance. They fired at the vampyres in my way, keeping my path open.

The dazed vampyres finally regained their composure and they realized exactly what I was planning to do. They lunged and leapt at me from everywhere, but a silver arrow always found them before they could get close. Some of the vampyres further away gave up all pretence of stopping me and jumped into the river to swim to the other side, desperate not to be cut off from their homeland.

On the river bank, two tall vampyres tried to block my way. A silver arrow shot one dead and I whacked the other aside with the broad of my sword. Everywhere now juveniles were jumping back into the river and swimming for their lives. I reached the water's edge and removed my gauntlet.

I just hoped some of the river's blessing still remained.

With the Sword of Edicts lifted high, I slit the palm of my left hand. Blood spilled from the wound down across my forearm. Another vampyre attempted a last-ditch lunge at me but a perfectly placed arrow caught it behind the head. Slowly, tremulously, I plunged my bloody hand into the water.

The effect was instantaneous.

The River Salve physically looked exactly the same, but the vampyres in the water began to scream. The river was now burning them with the full power of Saradomin's blessing which was harnessed by the power of Guthix which in turn was harnessed by me, the World Guardian.

A few vampyres had made it back across the river but all the other vampyre juvinates still in the water were dying a painful death. Vampyres that had remained on the Misthilin river bank screeched as they searched in vain for another way across the Salve without touching the water. Ozan and his three Zarosian archers were descending the hill, firing arrows mercilessly at the panicked creatures that weren't even bothering to fight back.

I lifted my bloody hand from the water and wrapped it up in a cloth from my pouch. I knew this effect on the river would remain as long as there was still the tiniest bit of Saradomin's blessing left in the water, although I had no idea how long that would last. But for now, it would do.

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	5. Adventurer Advantages

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"Another drink for Garviel!"

A beer glass was thumped down in front of me so hard that half of its contents sloshed out onto the table. The Blue Moon Inn was packed to bursting, full of drunken citizens and soldiers celebrating Misthilin's victory. All the tables were full but people happily stood around the crammed tavern drinking, singing, and drinking some more. Some high-born young women had come in from the nearby residences and soldiers were taking turns desperately trying to woo them with exaggerated if not fictional stories of their heroism and valour. A big fireplace kept the whole tavern warm, the burning logs crackling ever so often. The lights were dim and the air was hazy, which somehow added to the festive mood. Over the din of chatter and song, someone could be heard playing the guitar.

I was seated in the centre of the pub, surrounded on all sides by soldiers who were pushing and shoving each other for a better position to hear my story. I had just finished yet another recounting of how I had almost single-handedly held back the horde of vampyres, the tale eliciting numerous 'oooh's and 'aaah's from the listening crowd.

"To Garviel," said a grey-haired soldier nearby, raising his glass in what had to be the hundredth toast to me this night. "The greatest hero this city has seen since Arrav himself." The surrounding soldiers all raised their glasses, murmured their assent and drank deeply. I took a small sip of my drink, more for the sake of the toasting soldier than my own.

"'E is twice the man Arrav was!" said a burly drunk soldier from the corner of the tavern, pointing his glass at me almost menacingly. "'E is twice the man, I says!" He looked around threateningly, daring anyone to contradict him. No one did, and I had the feeling that no one really disagreed.

I once again glanced at Ariane, who was sitting at the bar and looking over at me, smiling faintly. We hadn't talked much since I had returned to Varrock. I only had time to explain to her what had happened before the news got around and I was dragged off to the bar by a group of joyous soldiers. I knew she didn't mind, she wanted me to enjoy this. Quite a few soldiers and even a cheeky blacksmith had tried their luck flirting with the lone redhead at the bar but her disinterest had caused them all to give up. Seeing the other men come on to her had caused a pang of jealousy inside me. Ariane and I still hadn't talked about our kiss.

I was distracted as two young men came annoyingly close to my head, trying to get a better look at the vampyre-fang puncture marks in my neck. The wound had been hastily stitched closed, but the large, circular marks were still clear to see.

"Can't believe you survived that," said one of the men, dropping a drink down in front of me as a manner of thanks.

"Course he did," said the other, who was wobbling slightly. "Took seven knights to bless the river last time and this guy's gone and done it again all by 'imself." Not many people really understood how I had managed to reinvigorate the holy River Salve.

I looked down at the drink in front of me, one amongst many. The table in front of me was crammed with drinks bought for me by soldiers and citizens alike, but that hadn't stopped others from buying more. I had stopped properly drinking quite a while ago, once I had noticed the room was shaking a little. The only thing worse than battle-fatigue the day after a fight was battle-fatigue with a hangover. And I was really going to feel the pain tomorrow. After all, in the course of one day I had been cut, scratched, bitten and burnt.

I idly glanced over at a soldier who was recounting an epic tale of his own to the brunette on his lap, his animated arms depicting sword thrusts and parries. I felt rather guilty that I was getting all the credit for holding the vampyres back – I could never have done it with Ozan and his men.

I had said farewell to Ozan just before arriving back at the closed city gates.

"I am sorry for the argument we had this morning," I had told him, clasping his hand in my own. "The lessons of Guthix say that we all should have the ability to make our own choices in life. If yours is to fight under the colours of the God of Fate and Control, then that decision is rightfully yours and I will not begrudge you it."

Then we had walked away, down our separate paths. But I couldn't resist calling out after him in jest, "Let's just hope we don't come to blows again when Zaros returns!"

Ozan had turned around and regarded me coolly. "The God of Fate may not be back physically, but that doesn't mean he hasn't returned." He grinned at me and added, "Who do you think led me to you in the woods?" With that he had turned on his heel and carried on, leaving me slightly dumbstruck. He hadn't told me where he was going.

I glanced again at Ariane, who was restlessly toying with her drink. Was she also thinking of our kiss? It was time we talked. I got up and made to walk over to her.

A hand gripped my arm. It was a particular type of grip – not tight, but forceful. A 'come with me now or else' type of grip. I looked over, half-expecting to see a mercenary or bounty hunter. Instead I saw someone who was, in these times, even more dangerous than a hired thug. A priest.

Abbot Langley from the Edgeville Monastery was dressed in his usual brown monk robes. The grey-haired priest was old and craggy, but eyes were bright with the fervour of one who had lived just long enough to see his chosen deity return.

"Say boy, I've been waiting a while to talk to you," he said. "Mind if we go somewhere that's a little more…" He glanced at a big soldier who had drank way past his limit and was now retching hard on the wooden floor. "…quiet?"

I looked back at Ariane. I wanted nothing more than to say no to the priest but I knew that I couldn't. It was Abbot Langley who had so promptly organised a commission party to be sent down to Lumbridge to personally ask Saradomin to ensure he could retain a bit of his blessing on the River Salve. The Abbot had even sent the party down in his own personal carriage.

I nodded and the priest led me across the tavern to the main door. Reluctantly, I exited with him. The sounds of the pub subsided as the door closed behind us, but so did the pub's warmth. Outside the tavern the wind blew hard and fierce. The Inn's blue crescent hanging signpost flapped around wildly. The cold hit me particularly hard, but I resisted the urge to hug my shoulders. I had stored almost all my equipment in my storage vault on return to the city, and was now clad only in my normal clothes and armoured boots.

Abbot Langley didn't say anything, so I started the talk myself in the hope of speeding up the conversation.

"I'm surprised you didn't go down south with the other priests to ask for Saradomin's assistance, Abbot."

"Oh no," said the priest. "I'm glad I didn't. I've just received the most wondrous news from one of my messengers from Lumbridge. Turns out that today Saradomin finally made that push we've all been waiting for. They're saying Zamorak's forces will be defeated within the week!"

The Battle of Lumbridge had reached an aggravating stalemate shortly after its start. Saradomin had the upper hand right from the off, but had lacked the power to truly push forward for victory, even with my partial assistance.

"Indeed, it is good news that the battle is finally going to end," I agreed. "But why not tell everyone in the tavern instead of just me?"

"I need to wait for word from my other messengers before I make it official, but I'm telling you it is true!" The priest looked borderline ecstatic with the news.

"Well, if that's all…" I began hopefully.

"There was one other matter I'd like to discuss," Abbot Langley said, more seriously.

He took a step towards me. "You re-blessed the holy River Salve, Garviel," the priest told me, as if I didn't already know. "It took seven of Saradomin's most devout knights to do it the last time, and today you did it all on your own."

"What?" I said, slightly shocked to realise that the Abbot had the same understanding of my actions as those two tipsy youths in the pub. "That's not how it happened."

"This is no time for modesty, boy." Abbot Langley scolded. "There is no greater proof that you were destined to be His greatest warrior. I am here to present you with a special gift. I will inscribe the symbol of Saradomin onto your skin-"

"What?" I repeated, cutting him off. "I have made my feelings on this abundantly clear and I won't stand for this fanaticism again. Sorry for wasting your time. Goodbye."

I moved to get back to the tavern, but the priest grabbed a hold of my arm again, although much tighter this time. "Why do you hate Saradomists?" he asked plainly.

I looked at the frustrated priest and decided to set the record straight. "I do not hate Saradomists," I said to him. "_Almost_ all of the Saradomists I have met are good-hearted, honourable people who care about others." The Abbot's face lit up, as if expecting me to have a sudden epiphany and realise that the path of the Blue God is my true calling.

I continued. "That being said, I believe that Saradomin shares none of the qualities of his followers. He is a power-hungry god that follows only his own agenda, hiding behind pretences of valour. I hope you understand now."

I tugged my arm from his grasp, turned around and pushed open the tavern door.

"Blasphemer!" spat Abbot Langley at my back.

I dipped my head slightly and turned back to face the seething priest. "Listen, old man. Did you ever stop to wonder why the day Saradomin somehow gained the extra power to overcome Zamorak in Lumbridge just so happened to be the same day that his power held within the River Salve was mysteriously sucked out? Quite the coincidence, wasn't it?"

The priest looked like he had been slapped. "No…He wouldn't…He knows how important…"

I left the old priest out in the cold and returned to the warm pub. Some men by the fire were chanting _"Garviel! Garviel! _Garvie_l!"_ Clearly they hadn't noticed that I had just left the tavern.

I knew that Abbot Langley was an idiot, but he had really killed my mood. Right now all I wanted was to lie down and rest. I walked over to the bar and knocked on the wood. The bartender came around.

"One room please," I asked.

The bartender checked his log and brought a key out from behind the bar.

"Lucky you," said the bartender. "This is our last room left."

"We'll take it," said a soft voice from behind me. Ariane reached out and took the key from the bartender's outstretched fingers. She walked over to the Inn's stairs and climbed up with complete nonchalance.

I stood still for a couple of moments, not exactly sure what had just happened.

"Lucky you," repeated the bartender, this time with longing.

Slowly, eagerly, I walked over to the stairs after Ariane.

Over the noise of the pub I could just about make out the bartender say to himself, "Man, I should have become an adventurer."

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The din of noise from the pub downstairs was still clearly audible, but it wasn't nearly as loud. It was also not as warm up here. Still, I was feeling rather hot, though I doubted that had anything to do with the temperature.

I walked down a corridor and opened the unlocked door to my room. It was a small room, nothing too fancy. A double bed sat against the far wall, its wool-stuffed mattress thick and inviting. There was simple oak dresser and a slightly cracked mirror alongside the bed, and a thin green carpet had been lain down across most of the wood-panelled flooring. In the corner there was a small, recently-lit fireplace which served as the room's sole source of illumination.

Ariane stood by the window, looking outside. The wind had seemingly intensified even more, and the branch of a nearby tree was gently tapping against window glass. I stepped inside the room, and closed the door behind me with a slight _thud_. Ariane turned at the noise, and walked over to me.

"Ariane…" I began, thinking of something to say.

Without a word, Ariane wrapped her arms around my neck and brought her mouth to mine. Her lips felt just as soft as they had in the Morytanian forest. Yet this time the kiss was different. While our first kiss had been slow and tender, now it was strong and passionate.

I brought my hands to her shoulders and then down to her back as the kiss intensified. Slowly, I pried her lips open with my own and our tongues collided. I brought a hand up into her hair to steady her head as my tongue explored her warm mouth.

She took and few steps backwards and our lips broke apart as she lay down on the bed. I kicked off my armoured boots and clambered next to her, eager to continue to kiss. My head over hers, I brought my mouth down again while both Ariane's hands found their way back to my neck.

I broke the kiss for a moment and lifted my head just to look at her. Her long red hair was spread out across the feather-filled pillows, and her deep green eyes were still watching my lips. Laying on her back somehow accentuated her high cheekbones and small, sharp nose. It didn't look at all like she had just been in a battle, and apart from a small cut on her forehead her skin was flawless. I looked down to her full, red lips. They were perfect.

Impatient, Ariane tugged slightly on my neck and brought my mouth down once more. Our tongues fought each other for dominance and I turned my head slightly for an easier route into her mouth. Ariane raised her hands slightly and toyed my hair with her fingers.

I glanced down and noticed that her green robe top had ridden up slightly, exposing her pale, flat stomach and enticing naval. Unable to resist, I hungrily brought down a hand and placed it on her exposed skin. She trembled slightly at my touch but didn't stop me. I moved my hand around the soft, warm skin of her stomach; it felt exquisite. My tongue slightly disengaged from our kiss as I looked downwards. Hopefully, yet cautiously, I slowly lifted my hand up her stomach and…

"Garviel," said Ariane uncertainly, breaking the kiss. I looked back at her. "I don't want things to go too fast," she said, looking up at me.

That was understandable. After all, we had been travelling together for no more than two days. I gave her lips one more soft kiss and climbed over her to the other side of the bed, laying on my back. Ariane turned onto her side to regard me.

"Why are you smiling?" she asked with a small laugh.

"After that, who wouldn't be?" I replied with a grin, looking up at the ceiling.

We lay in silence for a while. Ariane toyed with my arm absent-mindedly. I realised just how tired I was.

"I heard you were married once," said Ariane softly, her tone gentle.

I shifted slightly in the bed. This wasn't a topic I was comfortable discussing, and if anyone else apart from Ariane had asked I wouldn't have answered.

"Yes," I began uneasily, "To Princess Astrid of the Fremennik Island of Miscellania."

Ariane remained silent, unwilling to pry, but I knew she expected a bit more information.

I continued. "We had been betrothed for a while, a political act to strengthen the island more than anything else." Princess Astrid had been a stunningly beautiful high-born Fremennik blonde, comparable even to Ariane. She had been very passionate too, like all Fremennik women were.

I sighed. "And then that day game. The dagannoths had begun attacking the mainland - they were being led by a new Dagannoth Mother. We had no choice but to strike them at their home on Waterbirth Island to slay the beast. The entire Fremennik navy sailed over. None of us really thought we would make it back. Astrid and I were wed on the boat journey there."

I paused, then continued. "I somehow managed to defeat the Dagannoth Mother, but I was told soon after that Astrid and her brother Prince Brand had been killed." Many other Fremenniks had died that day. An official tally was never released, but some estimated that over a thousand people had lost their lives. Since then I often spent much of my free time fighting the remaining dagannoths on Waterbirth Island, in some futile form of repentance.

"I'm sorry," said Ariane softly, "Did you love her?"

"No," I said truthfully, "I don't think I ever really loved her."

I looked at Ariane and kissed her neck gently. She gave me a weak smile and turned around to sleep, her back facing me.

I watched her for a few moments before closing my eyes. I could faintly hear the sound of songs from downstairs. Those songs were for me. The people of Misthilin could sleep safe tonight knowing that the Salve still held true. That thought alone was worth everything that I had been through today.

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The sound of a crash woke me suddenly.

Ariane was out of bed looking for something, and had accidently knocked the mirror over. It was dark, the fire in the fireplace looked long extinguished and only the faintest bit of sunlight shone through the window. It had to be very early.

"I'm sorry," said Ariane apologetically, still searching around the room. "But you have to get up."

"Why?" I asked groggily, sitting up. My whole body ached.

"I had that vision again," Ariane said, as if it answered my question. She tossed my heavy boots onto the bed.

"The one with the red light in the tall tower?"

"Yes," she said, "Only this time the whole tower was red." She finally found her fire battlestaff and looked over to me. "And I know what it means."

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	6. The Demon Within

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I stepped off the loadstone and looked around.

Draynor Village was a sombre place. Black, leafless trees dotted the landscape and the plain dirt roads were so overgrown with weeds that they could hardly be seen anymore. Houses were small and packed close together, and there was always some sort of doomsayer preaching about 'the end of all times' in the market square. The village always looked like it was on its last legs, kept alive only because of its ample supply of willow trees and shrimp farms. Sometimes strong winds even carried over the macabre noises of war from the nearby Lumbridge battle crater.

Ariane appeared on the loadstone behind me. Loadstones were an incredibly efficient mode of teleportive transportation, but since the gods had returned a strict quota of one teleport a week had been implemented in both Misthilin and Asgarnia. The new rule was exasperating for frequent travellers but was necessary to prevent an upsurge of smuggling and other forms of black market trafficking in these troubled times. Ariane had insisted we both use our weekly loadstone teleport today.

"Alright, we're here now," I said, helping Ariane down. "Care to explain your vision?"

Ariane took a moment to gather her bearings and then immediately set course down the southern pathway. I followed her. She seemed to be struggling to find the right words.

"Visions are…a unique sort of experience," she began. "Sometimes Seers may think that they don't know what a vision means while on a subconscious level they have already figured some of it out. Two days ago when we met I had an urge to return to Wizard's Tower, and now I know why."

"So Wizard's Tower was the tall tower in your vision?" I asked.

Ariane nodded.

"And what about the red light?" As I spoke I glanced over at Draynor Manor. In my travels I had become accustomed to meeting ghosts and ghouls, but the massive old mansion still creeped me out a little. I looked away.

"I'm not completely sure," replied Ariane, "But it's definitely got something to do with Zamorak."

Zamorak, the God of Chaos, had recently been garnering a very large follower base in Gielinor. I had seen recruitment posters for the Red God plastered on walls and windows in Edgeville, Southern Varrock, and even in a shady corner of Falador. The posters all began with three large block letters – _STRENGTH THROUGH CHAOS_. Out of curiosity, I had read a poster once. It had said something on the lines of how the best way to test the strength of city's wall would be to throw an army at it – Only through experience and chaos could it be built back stronger to better protect the city in the future. The thought of philosophical Zamorakians had made me laugh out loud, and I couldn't believe that people actually believed in that reasoning. Strength was not an ideal to fight for by itself. Strength was a tool for prosperity, and chaos ironically served as its detriment. Indeed, war and chaos could make a city's walls stronger, but without war and chaos the city wouldn't even need a wall.

Despite his newfound popularity, Zamorak was all set to lose the Battle of Lumbridge anytime now, and that would be a massive blow for him. If anything positive could be said about the Lord of Chaos it was that at least he was honest about his true motives and intentions, unlike the Blue God.

"I do have a theory though," added Ariane.

"Let's hear it."

Ariane brushed a strand of red hair from her face. "Well, with Wizard Ellaron dead, the only thing of Zamorakian allegiance remaining in Wizard's Tower is the demon."

I knew of this demon. Everyone who had visited Wizard's Tower had seen it, locked securely within its protection ward. It had been in the Tower for many years, and the wizards often studied it for research. The demon was ancient, but was not nearly as powerful as some of the other demons I had encountered.

"How dangerous could it be?" I asked. "It's held within its protection ward, and it's only a lesser demon anyway."

Ariane quickened her pace. "The demon's name is Azacorax. With the return of Zamorak, it is likely that it gained more power, perhaps enough to escape his bindings. And while he may not be a greater demon, lesser demons do have certain advantages…"

"What do you mean?" I felt like a young schoolboy from the number of questions I was asking.

"During my time in the Tower I briefly studied demonology under both Wizard Grayzag and Wizard Taloram," said Ariane. "While greater demons are far too large and powerful, certain lessor demons have the ability to possess human bodies. Azacorax may be a lesser demon, but he is also an Archaic Demon, and so he has this power."

"How do you tell if someone is possessed by an Archaic Demon?" I asked. We rounded a corner and the massive bridge to Wizard's Tower came into view.

"It's very difficult, normally the people possessed do not fully realise it themselves, and the demon often remains hidden within them for long periods without altering their appearance. But there are a few ways to test it. There's even an old rumour that says Saradomin symbols crack whenever someone possessed by an Archaic Demon is around, but that's probably just superstition."

"So here's the plan," I said, as we stepped onto the bridge. "We go to the Tower, find out who's possessed, free them and then bind the demon again with stronger wards."

Ariane bit her lip uncomfortably. "Not exactly. The only way to get an Archaic Demon out from a person is to kill them."

"What?" I asked incredulously. I was genuinely shocked.

Ariane nodded solemnly. "Yes, and it has to be done with fire. It's a mercy really, no sane person wants a demon latched to their soul. An Archaic Demon sometimes even kills its own host as it cannot move from person to person unless the host it has chosen dies."

"Damn," I swore under my breath. I really pitied whoever the demon had chosen in Wizard's Tower. And the fact that they wouldn't realize it themselves made it all the more chilling.

Wizard's Tower finally came into view. It was huge; one of the tallest buildings in all of Gielinor, and its tip seemed to poke at the clouds. The tower's architecture was simply stunning, its white marble bricks adorned with a variety of magical symbols and ornaments. Wizard's Tower inspired awe in anyone who laid eyes on it; a beacon of human accomplishment in the Fifth Age.

Of course, the tower had not always looked like this. Indeed, this was the second version of the tower, the first having been completely burnt down in a magical explosion from a ritual that had gone horribly wrong. Back in the days of the First Tower, four magical orders had researched here – the Blue, Red, Green and Grey Orders, each with their own area of expertise, and each aligned under a respective god. After the tower had burnt down, a member of the Blue Order had rebuilt it, and as such the current Wizard's Tower was almost completely Saradominst.

Ariane used to be a wizard here before she became an adventurer. This was also where we first met. Although it had been three years ago, I still remembered that day. I had only recently started my travels, and was visiting Wizard's Tower for the very first time when a gorgeous, voluptuous redhead mage had propositioned me to help her. Truth be told, I did not really believe Ariane's talk of visions and destruction, but she had just been so stunning I couldn't say no. I had hoped for the possibility of a relationship after assisting her, but her indifference had confirmed my dreaded suspicion that she was only looking for friendship.

Ariane looked over at me as if she had read my mind. "I remember that day too," she smiled.

I wanted to kiss her right now, as if to show off to myself three years ago, but given the current circumstances I reckoned it would be very improper.

We stepped off the bridge onto Wizard's Island, and walked to the tower. To our great convenience, Archmage Sedridor, Head Mage of Wizard's Tower, was outside tending to a botanical magic plant. The plant seemingly had alchemic properties, as in the place of flowers it grew small, golden nuggets. Sedridor saw us walking over and stepped forward to greet us.

"Ariane!" he exclaimed, hugging her. "And Garviel," he added, with slightly less enthusiasm. He shook my hand with a tight grip. Archmage Sedridor was a devout Saradomist, and he had not particularly liked the words I had recently spread about the Blue God. "What brings you two to Wizard's Tower?"

"Archmage, I wish we were here on better terms, but there is something I must tell you." Ariane said, dispensing with any small talk.

"Yes?" asked Sedridor. The white-haired man looked rather old, but there was no doubt that he was an extremely powerful mage. The unique thing about magic was that even the frailest looking of men could conjure up incredibly powerful spells if they knew how.

Ariane took a breath and continued. "I believe that Azacorax has escaped," she said simply.

"What?" asked Archmage Sedridor, disbelievingly. "He has been bound securely for dozens of years. There is no way he'd have escaped."

"Yes but—"

"No Ariane," the Archmage said firmly, "I will not hear anymore of such talk."

"His bindings," I said, trying to help out. "They may not be enough to hold him back anymore. He may have grown stronger by the return of Zamorak."

Archmage Sedridor turned to regard me. "Do you think me a fool, Garviel? The first thing we did upon hearing of Zamorak's return was transport Azacorax to an underground chamber and strengthen his binding wards. Every day three different wizards stay in the chamber and guard him in rotation. If that isn't enough to convince you, I myself was down there earlier this morning and the demon was perfectly secure."

I was surprised and didn't really know what else to say. Sedridor looked back at Ariane. "What makes you believe that he could have escaped?" he asked, eyes flashing angrily.

"I had a vision," replied Ariane.

"A vision!" exclaimed Sedrior, almost mockingly. "You want me to believe this on the basis of a vision?"

It was Ariane's turn to get angry and her cheeks flushed red with frustration. "In case you have forgotten, Archmage, the last time I had a vision of this tower I ended up saving it."

"Ariane," began Sedridor in a softer tone, perhaps realizing he had insulted her. "Azacorax is an Archaic Demon. If I am to believe you that means…No, it just can't be true."

Ariane composed herself and some of the colour left her cheeks. "I understand your reluctance to heed my warning," she said, kindly. "And I know the terrible burden on your shoulders if one of your wizards has indeed been possessed. But we can't pick and choose what we want to believe in. There could be a great threat here."

"Just take us to see the demon," I proposed. "If he is still secure, it will disprove our suspicions and we can all move on."

"Very well," said the Archmage with a sigh, "But I am telling you it is not true."

He motioned for us to follow him and we moved around the tower. I was surprised that the demon wasn't being held within Wizard's Tower itself; clearly precautionary steps had been taken to keep it secure.

Archmage Sedridor led us to a small trapdoor in the ground on the other side of the small island. He chanted some words and there was a _click_ noise as it unlocked. He heaved up the heavy door and stepped onto the ladder below that led down to the chamber. Ariane made to follow him.

"No you don't," said Sedridor, and Ariane stopped in her tracks.

"Why?" inquired Ariane, confused.

"You and Azacorax have a history, don't think I have forgotten. You tricked the demon into helping you decipher a vision once, and he swore bloody vengeance."

"Yes, and what's that got to do with anything?" asked Ariane.

"You cannot preach of the demon's escape and then come down here willingly," said the Archmage. "You know you would be in great danger if the demon was indeed loose. Perhaps deep down you don't really believe in your own vision?"

"Fine," said Ariane, stepping back annoyed. "Garviel, you go down and then come back to tell me what you've seen."

I nodded and stepped onto the ladder after the descending Archmage.

"Oh, and Garviel," Ariane added, her tone more tender. "Be careful."

I flashed her what was supposed to be a comforting smile and closed the trapdoor behind me.

It was rather dark here, the area was lit only by a few torches hanging from the walls. The ladder down was quite long.

"So which wizards are down here?" I asked Sedridor below me.

"Wizard Mizgog, Wizard Taloram and Wizard Ilona," replied Sedridor, stepping off the ladder. Today is their turn to guard Azacorax."

I jumped down off the ladder and looked around the narrow chamber. A long corridor ran down the middle with three doors on one side. At the end of the corridor I could see the edge of the demon's cage around a corner. The chamber was very dark.

"Why do you wizards keep it so dark down here?" I asked.

For the first time, Archmage Sedridor looked worried. "We don't. It's normally much brighter than this," he conceded.

"Mizgog!" Taloram! Ilona!" he called out.

A grey-haired old man and a dark-haired young woman stepped out from their respective rooms.

"Taloram, Ilona, where is Wizard Mizgog?" asked Sedridor with slight urgency.

"Guarding the demon of course, Archmage," replied Taloram.

"Why is it so dark out here?" asked Ilona.

Something was wrong. I pushed past the two wizards in front of me and ran to the end of the corridor. I looked around the corner at Azacorax's warded cage.

It was empty.

Archmage Sedridor had run behind me. He gasped loudly. But it wasn't the cage he was looking at, it was the ceiling. I followed his line of sight and inhaled deeply.

The distorted, mangled body of Wizard Mizgog was hung upside down from the roof of the chamber. On the wall behind him, only just visible from the dim light of a nearby torch, someone had drawn the symbol of Zamorak.

It was drawn in blood.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

I watched closely as Archmage Sedridor warded shut the trapdoor above. It would not open to anyone now, above or below. The message was clear – No one leaves this chamber until we find out where the demon is. Or rather, who the demon is in.

An agitated Wizard Taloram was relighting the chamber torches, most of which had been extinguished, thus causing the extreme darkness. Wizard Ilona was leaning against a wall, sobbing softly.

Both of them had every right to be unsettled. Senior Wizard Mizgag had been a kind soul, a pacifist wizard who had never harmed a thing. But perhaps the real reason Taloram and Ilona seemed so frightened was not because of the sight of their dead colleague, but because of the inevitable fact that one of them had done the crime unknowingly, and that Azacorax remained hidden within one of them even now.

Archmage Sedridor climbed down off the ladder. "We need to discuss this," he said softly, looking over both his wizards.

"Here," stammered Ilona, between sobs. "We can use my room."

We all stepped into the young wizard's small room. The room itself didn't really belong to Ilona; it was a temporary room for those on shift duty to watch over the demon. There was a single bed and rune-cupboard in the room's corner. The only other pieces of furnishing were two small stools and a tiny desk currently cluttered with Ilona's books and notes. With all four of us inside, the room felt slightly claustrophobic.

Illona sat on the foot of the bed and tried to compose herself. The young woman was average looking, though she did have stunningly blue eyes. Our paths had crossed before – I had once rescued her from a Zamorakian cult that sought to sacrifice her in the Lumbridge Catacombs. It seemed like the Red God was out to ruin her life once more here.

Sedridor and Taloram took a seat on the stools. I closed the door behind me and leant on it. Taloram was an old grey-haired wizard, like most of those who worked in Wizard's Tower. However, unlike the others his brow was always creased and his eyes narrowed in annoyance. He was known to be not the friendliest of people.

The tension in the room was daunting. Everyone knew what must be done to the person whom Azacorax was hiding within. I felt slightly naked, I had been so rushed in coming here that I hadn't brought any armour with me save for my boots, and the only other equipment I had was the Sword of Edicts sheathed around my waist.

"Tell me what happened," I said, directing my command to Taloram as Ilona was still wiping tears from her cheeks.

Taloram looked up at me. "Wizard Ilona and I last left our rooms to greet the Archmage when he came down here this morning to check on us. At that time Wizard Mizgag had just started his shift guarding in front of the cage, and Azacorax was secure. Ilona and I returned to our rooms after greeting the Archmage, and later I heard the trapdoor close when he left. Apart from that, I heard nothing. No one else has been down here today."

"Yes, that's right," said Ilona. "But I think I heard a gnashing sound after the Archmage left. I can't be sure though…I was very tired and had fallen asleep on my desk. There's been so much work recently…"

"It's okay," I said kindly. I looked over the three wizards. "The real question we need to ask is how do we tell when someone is possessed by an Archaic Demon?"

No one answered.

"Come on," I encouraged, "You are men and women of the Wizard's Tower. If you don't know the answer to this, then nobody does."

Archmage Sedridor cleared his throat. "It may be crude, but one piece of information we know about this demon is that it has a...vendetta against Ariane." I knew where this was going, and I didn't like it. Sedridor continued, "If I were to un-ward the trapdoor and bring her down, perhaps Azacorax would show himself?"

"Out of the question," I said firmly. "We're not going to do anything that puts Ariane or any others at risk. That's why we detained ourselves down here in the first place." Sedridor looked slightly ashamed at his own proposition.

"Agreed," said Taloram. "And we cannot make the mistake of underestimating this demon. I'm sure Azacorax would be able to look past a simple grudge if it meant staying hidden."

I regarded Taloram. "You are a demonologist aren't you, Wizard Taloram? Surely you know some ways to detect a possessed person?"

Taloram looked stressed. "Yes, I'm sure I do. Please, just give me a few moments to try and recollect my thoughts." I nodded. Wizards like Taloram often worked within the realm of theory, and in the high-pressure situation we had found ourselves in it would be easy to lose focus.

"Wait," said Ilona suddenly. Her face brightened up. "I remember Wizard Grayzag once teaching me about soul runes, and how they could be used to test for possession. You should know this method Taloram!"

"Ah, right," began Taloram. "When someone breaks a soul rule in his hands, there always appears a brief white aura around their head. If the person is possessed however, this aura will be red. Of course, to use this method we will need a soul rune…"

Ilona jumped up from the bed, opened her rune-cupboard and began rummaging around. After a few moments of searching, she pulled out a single soul rune.

"You only have one?" I asked, disappointed.

"Soul runes are hard to come by," answered Sedridor for her. "The Wizard's Tower only possesses a couple dozen. We are very fortunate that Ilona had one with her down here."

Ilona handed me the soul rune.

"So who should we make use it?" asked Sedridor. Taloram and Ilona watched me expectantly.

"Well…" I began slowly, "I think you should use it, Sedridor."

"What?" exclaimed the Archmage loudly, clearly shocked that I suspected him.

"Isn't it true that you were the last person to see Wizard Mizgog alive?" I asked him. "It is possible that Azacorax escaped his bindings, possessed you and made you kill Mizgog while Taloram and Ilona were unsuspectingly idling in their rooms."

"I was the last person to see Mizgog yes, but…"

I pressed on. "And you definitely have seemed more forceful since we last met."

"It's the stress…I've had to train so many Saradomist mages to fight in the Battle of Lumbridge…"

I was adamant now. "Break the soul rune," I said, holding the rune out to him.

Sedridor got up. He looked furious. "I am the Archmage of Wizard's Tower! I think I would know if I was possessed!"

"No, you wouldn't," said Taloram softly. Everyone knew the demonologist was right.

Sedridor looked around the room defiantly for a few moments more, but then conceded defeat. "Alright then," he said finally. Sedridor took the soul rune from me and held it firmly in his hands.

He looked up at me. "If it's in me, make it fast," he whispered.

I nodded and unsheathed the Sword of Edicts. I would not enjoy this, but it had to be done. Ilona and Taloram stood up, watching their Archmage.

Archmage Sedridor looked down sadly at the soul rune in his hands. Slowly, he began applying force on it. I gripped the Sword of Edicts tighter. The old Archmage was weak, and was struggling with the rune. He held it across his knee and thrust once more.

The soul rune broke. For the briefest of moments, an aura appeared around his head. It was white.

Sedridor let out a sigh of pure relief. I lowered my sword. I was quite surprised; I had really expected the aura to turn red. Taloram and Ilona did not share their Archmage's respite. They knew now that Azacorax was definitely within one of them.

But with the soul rune now broken, we were back to square one.

"Any more ideas?" I asked.

Taloram and Ilona kept glancing at one another suspiciously.

"Have you had moments today that you can't fully remember?" the demonologist asked Ilona.

"Well yes," said the young mage, slightly alarmed, "But as I said earlier, I was asleep."

Ilona looked to the floor but Taloram kept watching her closely.

Agitated silence filled the small room once more. My thoughts drifted to Ariane and how worried she must be back on the surface. I had been down in the chamber for quite a while now. I was certain that she'd tried opening the trapdoor, but it was sealed and warded shut.

"Sedridor," I said, glancing over at the old Archmage. "None of your wizards up in the tower even know we're down here."

Sedridor nodded and looked down, deep in thought. "Pass me your sword, Garviel." he said abruptly.

My grip instinctively tightened across the Sword of Edicts for a moment, but I handed it over. I had no idea what the Archmage was planning to do, but any plan was better than idling around doing nothing. Sedridor placed the heavy sword across his lap and began chanting softly. There was a soft _pop_, and the Sword of Edicts disappeared.

I jumped up. "What did you do?" I shouted, shocked to see my precious weapon vanish.

"Relax," said the Archmage coolly. "I've simply teleported it up to Wizard's Tower."

"And why on earth would you do that?" I stammered, unable to grasp his reasoning.

"That's the Sword of Edicts," began Sedridor, as if I didn't know. "When the wizards see it lying about unattended they will know something is wrong and I am certain they will come down to the trapdoor to check on Azacorax. When they find it warded shut, I'm sure they will soon realise what has happened and where I am. There's nothing else I could have teleported from down here that would be able to send that kind of message.

I slowly leant back against the wall, but I was still on edge. Sedridor's plan made sense, but I felt thoroughly unarmed now.

"That was my only weapon," I said. "What am I going to use when the demon shows itself?"

A thin smirk broke out across Sedridor's weary features. "Have you forgotten where you are? This is Wizard's Island. Why do you need a metal stick when you could use magic?" He walked over to the rune-cupboard and opened it. "So, what do you want?"

"Any earth spells?" I asked.

"Surprisingly, no," said Sedridor as he rummaged around. "But there are runes for the three other elementals." He tossed me a pouch full of runes. I glanced inside and then tied it around my belt.

"You don't carry a spare weapon with you?" asked Ilona from the foot of the bed. She lifted her robe bottom ever so slightly to reveal a short grey dagger tied around her thigh. "Since the Lumbridge Catacombs incident I've always carried this with me for emergencies." The blade of the iron dagger was dotted with rust, and it didn't really look sharp at all.

From the other side of the room Taloram clicked his tongue scornfully. "You're a disgrace to us wizards, carrying that," he said bluntly.

Ilona looked taken aback and hurt. "You don't know what I've been through," she responded. "I'm just as much a wizard as you are!"

"Know your place, girl," snapped Taloram. "I'm a senior wizard here, and you are nothing but an apprentice."

"Enough," said Sedridor with authority. Ilona had just opened her mouth for a retort but held back her words. I noticed her forehead was dotted with perspiration. I realised that I was sweating too. The small room had become hot and stuffy.

"Taloram," began Sedridor, turning to him. "How long can an Archaic Demon hide within a host before their features start to change?"

"Depends really," answered Taloram, taking once final glance at Ilona before tuning to his Archmage. "Normally its a few days, but some powerful demons have been known to hide for abo—"

"It's there!" yelled Ilona suddenly, and everyone jumped. Her face was white with terror and she backed up behind the bed, finger pointing straight at Taloram. "Azacorax! The demon is in him!"

I looked back at Wizard Taloram. He looked bewildered and surprised, but perfectly normal.

"Ilona, relax," I said, moving over to her. "It's just this stuffy room playing tricks on the mind."

Ilona backed away from me, onto the bed itself. "Didn't you see? Didn't you just see it?" She looked between me and Sedridor, her eyes pleading. I glanced at the Archmage, he looked as surprised as I did.

"Calm down now Ilona," demanded Sedridor, standing up. But the young wizard just screamed back at him.

"He is there! I am telling you! It's Azacorax!" Her pointed, shaking finger never left the demonologist. She seemed rather senile.

Taloram, who had initially looked shocked, now seemed perfectly calm. He leant back on his chair and crossed his legs. "If you think these theatrics are going to make me the prime suspect here, you truly are as brainless as you look."

With an almighty shriek Ilona jumped from the bed and lunged for her rune pouch on the table. I reacted fast, kicking the pouch off and sending her runes scattering all over the stone floor. Ilona got up fast and unclasped the iron dagger from her thigh. She held it up in the air and ran towards Taloram screaming.

In one fluid motion the demonologist stood up and slapped the charging Ilona across her face. The young mage crashed hard into a wall of the room and slumped to the floor, holding her reddened cheek and whimpering in pain.

"I had to do that," Taloram said, turning around. "It was self-defence, Archmage."

Sedridor didn't reply. He was looking at the exact same thing I was. Taloram's eyes.

They were glowing red.

"Show yourself, Azacorax," I demanded, ice slowly forming around my fingertips as I readied a spell.

"What are you talking about?" asked Taloram with a quizzical look.

"Show yourself now, demon!" spat Archmage Sedridor, holding up his staff.

Taloram smiled. It was a wide, toothy, malevolent smile. It was the kind of smile that could never be produced by a human. Taloram opened his mouth, and Azacorax laughed. "Well I guess this stupid game of hide and seek is finally over," the demon said in a deep, amused voice.

There was a small crack and two miniature horns protruded from the top of Taloram's skull. His face bloated, and his eyes turned black. His fingers webbed together and his nails grew out into claws. His skin turned to a light hue of red.

I faltered at the sight of the transformation. The half-formed demon turned around and raised a claw to strike the whimpering Ilona who held her arms out in a feeble attempt at defence. Sedridor responded first, shooting an incredibly powerful shot of air from his staff. Azacorax was thrust against the wall of the room and held there for a few seconds until the spell ended. The demon roared, a primal bestial noise, and strode towards the old Archmage.

I thrust out my hands and a block of ice froze one of the demon's feet, pinning him in place. The demon's charge waned but with one large thrust his leg came free, shattering the ice block with ease. Sedridor shot a massive surge of water into the demon's face and it fell over backwards. I jumped on top of it and tried to freeze it in place. Azacorax took a swipe at me with his clawed fist and only narrowly missed my face.

This fight was far too close-quartered for magic anymore. I reached out for Ilona's discarded dagger. The demon tried to push me off but I kneed his abdomen down with all my weight. Holding the dagger in both hands, I plunged it right into the demons face. There was a meaty crunch and Azacorax bellowed in pain.

Again I thrust down with the blunt blade. Again. Again. The demon stopped its terrible bellowing. Again. Again. The demon below me stopped its squirming. Again. Again. Azacorax went still and limp.

I rolled off the lifeless creature. The air was thick. Wizard Ilona was crying violently on the floor where she had been thrown. Archmage Sedridor bent down, breathing heavily and coughing with a hard wheeze.

I looked back at the face of what was once Wizard Taloram. I had killed Azacorax before he could manage to fully transform the demonologist's body. His host's face was bloated and bulbous, oozing with pus-filled blood, but here and there were a few features of the deceased Taloram could still be seen. His mouth disturbed me the most.

It was still smiling.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The trapdoor opened.

For a moment the sound of nervous chatter was heard but it was almost instantly replaced by anxious murmuring and whispers. I lifted myself off the ladder. The bright sunlight was harsh on the eyes and it took me a moment to get my bearings. Wizards of the Tower were watching me from all sides, unsure of what to do.

I turned and helped Archmage Sedridor out of the chamber. Once he was out, I helped Ilona. She was still crying. I turned back to the other wizards, and saw Ariane amongst them. They seemed shocked at the sight of the three dishevelled people that had just emerged from the demon's safety chamber. Most of them looked to their Archmage for some sort of information. I glanced at Sedridor and saw that he was still bending over, wheezing hard. I cleared my throat.

"Azacorax escaped," I announced loudly. "Wizard Taloram and Wizard Mizgog are dead, but the demon has been killed."

There was an eruption of noise as wizards let out gasps of disbelief, shouted in anger and demanded answers. A few wizards moved forwards to help Sedridor and lead him back to the Tower. Ariane rushed toward me but Ilona ran into her arms instead, crying profusely. Ariane was taken aback but hugged the traumatized young mage kindly.

Over Ilona's shoulder, Ariane asked, "Are you alright, Garviel?" She looked at my bleeding shoulder, eyes full of concern. I hadn't even realised it had been cut.

"I'm fine, Ariane," I replied wearily. Without a second glance I walked off, leaving Ariane with the sobbing girl. I needed some space. Wizards all over were asking me questions and prodding me for responses.

"How did it escape?"

"What were you doing down there for so long?"

"I knew this would happen one day."

"Not Mizgog! This can't be true!"

I shoved past some of them. This was really not what I needed after the ordeal I had just been through. I saw Archmage Sedridor, he too was being interrogated by a group of his men. His eyes were unfocused and he was still sweating copiously. I could tell he wanted to get out of this tide of wizards just as much as I did. I walked over to him.

"My sword," I said bluntly, cutting across another wizard's question. "Where is it?"

Sedridor looked at me with a drained expression. "In the Tower, upstairs. I teleported it to my office," he said. He motioned for me to follow him and I did. After we had taken a few steps the Archmage turned around and glared at some inquisitive wizards following us, stopping them all in their tracks.

We walked around the island and entered the Tower. The Archmage's plan had definitely worked. As soon as his wizards had seen the Sword of Edicts appear, they knew something was amiss and it must have been only a matter of time before they realised that the demon's chamber trapdoor was warded shut from within. As we took the gravity-lift up two floors, I realised that Wizard's Tower was all but empty now; almost all its men and women had gone outside to see what the fiasco was about. They must have been stunned when they heard of the deaths of two of the Tower's senior wizards.

Sedridor seemed indistinct and kept muttering softly to himself. I heard him say "With faith, all things are possible," but couldn't really make out the rest.

We reached Archmage Sedridor's office and he pushed open the door. The large room was filled with small statues of Saradomin and the Blue God's favoured generals. Dozens of bookcases covered the walls, and several plump armchairs sat around a large, warm fireplace. Sunlight poured through the office's single window but the room was lit primarily by the hundreds of floating candles that hovered near the ceiling. Paintings, both landscapes and portraits, dotted the room's walls. The massive four-sided star icon of Saradomin stood pinned on the wall above the doorframe.

Sedridor walked around his desk and lifted up the Sword of Edicts. I was relieved to see that the sword was still in perfect condition and had not been sullied by the teleportation. He handed it to me and I nodded my thanks, examining the blade one more time before sheathing it.

"Please, sit." said Sedridor, indicating the leather chair on the other side of his desk. He cleared some clutter of his table and poured us each a glass of water from an iced jug. I took a seat and accepted the drink gratefully.

"Quite a day, wasn't it?" asked the Archmage, taking a seat himself. He looked much calmer now.

"Yeah," I replied, not knowing what else to say. I drank a gulp of water.

Sedridor continued. "I suppose that despite all our training, we never really were equipped to confine a demon of that stature…"

I drank some more.

Archmage Sedridor suddenly sat up and looked at me eagerly. "You know Garviel, you were really something today…" I saw fervour in his eyes. I knew this couldn't be good. "Garviel, this Sixth Age is going to be long and bloody. We could really use someone like you fighting for the One True God."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I couldn't believe that now of all times Sedridor thought it would be an opportune time to recruit me. These Saradominists were incessant; this was the second time in as many days that I had been propositioned by one.

I slammed my drink down onto the table and got up. I was angry now. "I have had enough of this," I seethed through gritted teeth. "For the very last time, I will never fight for Saradomin!"

I turned around to stride out of the room. I froze.

The Saradomin symbol that was pinned above the door. It was cracked.

From behind me there came a deep, inhuman voice.

"I was not talking about Saradomin."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-


	7. Tainted

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"I was not talking about Saradomin."

Slowly, unsteadily, I turned around.

Eyes glowing red, Archmage Sedridor got up from his chair, a full two feet taller than he was just moments ago. There was an awful grinding noise as the bones in his body gyrated and his legs elongated even more. His arms widened and the long limbs filled out with thick, veiny muscle and cartilage. Ethereal flames gathered around both his growing hands. Teeth gnashed against one another, the force of it sharpening a few and breaking off many. Almost arthritic fingers morphed into strong talons and once pale skin was coloured deep red.

All the while I stood completely still, utterly frozen. This was the type of frozen that no magical spell could ever hope to duplicate. This was fear. Cold, unyielding fear.

How was this possible? I had killed Wizard Taloram while the demon was within him! There was no doubt that the man had died. I had stabbed and stabbed…

A voice spoke in my head, the memory of a recent conversation that somehow seemed so distant. _"And it has to be done with fire," said Ariane._

There was a loud crack as the horns emerged, two massive bony points protruding from his skull. Face bloated, eyes black, skin red as blood – Sedridor no longer stood before me; not a single trace of the veteran Archmage of Wizard's Tower was left. Azacorax looked over his fully formed body and smiled. He took a step towards me.

The movement was enough was snap me out of my stagnation. One hand reached down for my weapon and the Sword of Edicts was unsheathed in a heartbeat. I gripped it tight and held it up at the ready.

"Garviel…" gurgled Azacorax, the demon's voice sounding as if his throat was filled with phlegm. "Always so quick to action…never stops to think things through. If I wanted you dead, I would have simply possessed you when you released me from the body of that fool of a man down in my chamber prison…"

I faltered slightly. He had a point. "Why?" I asked, throwing my question out like an order.

Azacorax didn't seem threatened in the slightest, and he even took a small, tentative step closer. "Oh, you are _far_ too valuable to be used as a mere host. That would be ever so wasteful of me…That is why I choose to occupy the body of this pathetic old man instead…"

"Sedridor was Archmage of this Tower!" I shouted back, incredulously. The loss of Sedridor had just hit me; the wizard was truly gone forever. "He was one of the most powerful mages in all of Misthilin!"

At this the demon threw his head back and laughed, deep and throatily. "He was old and frail; I care not for his manipulation of runes." Azacorax regarded me. "You think me malevolent for taking his body, don't you? You must know, Garviel, that there is a demon within everyone…I am just a more literal manifestation, so to speak…"

"What is it that you want from me, demon?" I asked through clenched teeth.

Azacorax moved a step closer. His face contorted to something resembling admiration. Admiration and longing. "Do you even realize the power you have been bestowed with? Just imagine that power alongside Him…Oh the things you two could accomplish…Lord Zamorak and his _World Guardian_." The demon's forked tongue licked his thin black lips at the mention of the last two words, as if tasting the title himself.

"Never," I said firmly. "That day will never come." I gripped the Sword of Edicts tighter. I knew that I couldn't kill the demon with it, but it felt reassuringly heavy in my hand.

"Ah…yes, you are ever so critical of the Lord of Chaos." Azacorax's voice rose, his tone angrier. "How many times have you ruined His plans? How many times have you stopped one of His faithful from succeeding? How many times have you served as a thorn in His side?" The demon's tone softened once more. "And yet…Lord Zamorak is willing to forgive. He is willing to look past all your past transgressions and delinquencies. What an honour He presents you with…A chance for redemption…A chance to be at His side…"

Azacorax took another step closer. "Join us, Garviel."

"No!" I yelled. "As long as I live I will never fight alongside those who slaughter the innocent."

The demon smiled. "Do not entangle yourself in the web of morality…Liberate yourself from its bindings and imagine how free you will be. Good and evil, these are mere conceptions of the mortal mind. All that matters is strength. If you have the strength to do something you want, then do it. Why restrain yourself because of what someone else tells you? Anarchy is not the opposite of freedom. Anarchy is _the definition_ of freedom."

Azacorax moved forward.

"Not another step!" I ordered, holding up the Sword of Edicts higher, gripped now with both hands. I realised that I had spoken with much less conviction than I had intended.

Azacorax acted as if I hadn't said a word. He edged closer; he was right in front of me now. His voice was almost gentle, seductively inciting. "You are strong, Garviel. Endless possibilities lay before you. What you could achieve is limited only by your imagination. You do not need to take my word for it…See for yourself…" He looked upon me with a hypnotic stare.

Against all my better reasoning, against all logical judgement, I met his gaze. Azacorax's eyes were as dark as the night sky, two pure black orbs devoid of any form of pupil or iris. Yet there was something else in those shady depths, something more. Hidden truths, concealed possibilities.

"Look closely…" hissed the demon, eyes unmoving.

And then I saw it.

_I was standing atop White Knight's Castle, gazing over Falador; the once white city was now painted black and a flag of the Kinshra flapped in the breeze. I was sitting on an obsidian throne, watching hundreds of red-clad monks prostrate themselves and swear allegiance to me. I was in bed Ariane and three other stunningly beautiful women, partaking in acts of the most erotic nature. I was striding past a retinue of captured slaves; the men were cowering from my might and begging for mercy. _No…this is not what I want…_I was bellowing with laughter as I watched a rebel leader being set ablaze at the stake. _Enough…I have seen enough…_I was atop a black battle-horse leading an army of thousands towards the last remaining bastion of order on the face of Gielinor. _Let me look away…just let me look away…_Men, women and children; all fell to my blade - no one could stand against me, no one would ever be able to stand against me._ NO! Stop this now!

"Aarrrrghhhhh!"

The demon's eyes closed.

I looked down. I had stabbed Azacorax clear through the hip with the Sword of Edicts. I was panting for air and my breaths came out heavy. I looked back up at the face of the demon.

Azacorax's hideous features were contorted in pain. There was another expression on his face, but it was neither one of anger nor frustration. It was disappointment.

"What a shame," he said softly.

With a sudden thrust of a massive arm I was pushed clear away from demon with incredible force. My unarmed body crashed heavily into a bookshelf on the other side of the room and I fell down to the floor hard. Azacorax tentatively pulled the Sword of Edicts from his body and hurled it aside. Fresh blood and pus oozing from his wound, the demon charged.

I was without my sword but that didn't even matter. I was not going to make the same mistake that I did with Wizard Taloram – this demon had to be killed with fire. The rune-pouch that Sedridor had given me earlier was still fastened securely around my belt, and my hands began to heat up as I got to my feet and readied a spell.

Azacorax lunged just as I thrust out with my hands, orange flames flying towards the demon. Azacorax roared as the fire made contact with his thin red skin and his charge faltered. My hands began to warm once more while the demon rolled his huge body around the office floor in an attempt to extinguish the searing flames.

I thrust my hands out again but Azacorax had recovered fast and dodged the blast of fire, the flames instead engulfing an entire shelf of books, destroying precious tomes of magical knowledge. The demon rapidly closed the distance between us and raised a clawed hand. I swerved and just narrowly avoided the swipe aimed for my face but couldn't react fast enough when the demon lifted a muscled leg. Azacorax kicked me hard in the abdomen and sent me flying across the room to land on my back a several metres away. The demon charged at me again and I thrust out my hands for the next fire blast that I had been readying.

Nothing. No flames were cast. I swore under my breath – How could it be possible that I was out of fire runes after just two spells? Thinking fast, still on the floor, I raised an open hand to the ceiling clenched it into a fist, pulling downwards in the direction of the swiftly approaching demon. Some of the room's magically floating candles were yanked down by the force of the air spell and plunged onto Azacorax. The demon was not greatly affected by the small flames and melting candlewax but his charge was slowed enough for me to get up and catch my breath. I glanced down into the rune-pouch and was horrified to see that I only had enough runes left for a single water and single air spell.

Azacorax almost upon me now, I used one of my precious remaining spells and cast an incredible water surge at the demon, the force of the jet of water hit him square in the shoulder and there was a loud _crack_ of bone. Azacorax fell to one knee. Looking desperately around the room, I saw the one thing that might turn out to be my salvation – the office's large fireplace. It was the oldest trick in the book, but while the demon was down I placed myself in a few metres front of the hearth and waited. I could hear the crackling of the fire behind me.

Azacorax got up slowly and with a loud grunt popped his dislocated shoulder back into place. He turned to me, leering with hate.

"I know you only have one spell left, human." The demon broadened his mouth to reveal yellowed teeth. "Oh how proud my Lord will be when I inform him that I have killed the World Guardian…"

I taunted him back with the first thing that came to mind. "I really don't think old Zamorak will be listening much, on account that he's currently got Saradomin's foot up his arse over in Lumbridge." The effect was instantaneous. With an almighty roar Azacorax charged once more, but with a ferocity seemingly tenfold more than before.

I stayed my ground. Timing was going to be everything now. Azacorax lunged, and at the last possible moment I side-stepped away from the wild attack. The demon tried to right himself and slow his pace, but I thrust out my hands and with my last remaining spell shot a bolt of air right towards Azacorax's back. The force of the spell coupled with the demon's unchecked momentum sent him flying towards the hearth fire. With a roar of my own, I jumped onto the broad back of the demon and forced his head down into the fire.

Azacorax screeched with agony as his face melted in the flames. His arms flayed about madly, swiping backwards in meagre attempts to knock me off. A few random strikes caught me but I maintained the force on top the demon's head, despite the searing pain in my hands as a few flames burnt them too.

The demon's cries ended, but I still held him down. I only released my hold when I realized that bits of his face were crusting off and falling to the bottom of the hearth. I got up and pulled the demon from the fireplace by his limp legs. I kicked him over and regarded his head. It was black and burnt to an absolute crisp.

Azacorax was truly dead now, and at this very moment I was sure his soul was flying back to the abyss of which he spawned.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The sky darkened as evening approached. I did not look back at Wizard's Tower as our horses strode away, although I did notice that Ariane had taken a few tentative glances over her shoulder.

The old magical institution was in complete disarray, and it likely would continue to be so for days to come. Wizards had still been reeling from the shock of losing two of their most senior members when they had heard the news that their Archmage was dead as well. Still, two senior wizards and an Archmage was a relatively small price to pay when compared to the possibility of Azacorax running loose in the Tower, jumping from host to host. If that were so, countless wizards may have lost their lives and possibly their souls before the demon was caught, if ever he was.

The wizards had insisted that I break a soul rune before I left Wizard's Island. I was not offended by this; I knew that they couldn't afford any more mishaps and had to be certain. Once the aura had turned white and I had assured them that Azacorax was gone, the wizards turned their attention to the arduous process of electing a new Archmage. With so few senior members left, it was almost certain that Wizard Borann would claim the post, but I doubted that he would ever be as influential as the venerable and long-serving Sedridor.

Ariane and I didn't speak much as we rode our rented steads back towards Rimmington. All I had told her was that I had killed the demon again, but this time with fire. No one had spoken for five whole minutes before Ariane broke the silence.

"You know they're never going to forget what happened today," she said softly. "It's going to go down in as their biggest disaster since the First Tower was destroyed."

I looked over at her. She seemed quite upset. "It could have been much worse Ariane, if not for your vision."

Ariane sighed. "I know that's true, but still...I can't help but feel that all the people who died today did so because of my actions. I feel somewhat guilty…"

"Don't say that Ariane," I said firmly. "You've helped to avert a massive threat. That's all that matt—"

There was suddenly a searing pain in my head. I felt momentarily nauseous and pulled on the reins of my horse to stop it.

"Garviel?" inquired Ariane, worried. She turned her horse around to face me. "What's wrong?"

"I'm fine," I lied. "It's just battle fatigue." I had been feeling a little weary ever since I left Wizard's Tower, but I had just attributed it to the extreme exertion of the battle yesterday combined with the intense stress of the events today. But I knew now that this couldn't be battle fatigue. It was a different kind of ache, a different kind of pain.

"You need some water," said Ariane, seeing easily through my fib. She reached down to her flask and shook it, frowning as she realized it was empty. "Come on, we're just passing Port Sarim, we can ask for water at the bar there."

"There's really no need," I asserted, "We're going to be back at my house soon, I can get some there."

Ariane gave me a look of insistence and I knew there was no point in arguing. We turned our horses off the main road and down to the port town. Port Sarim was a dirty place, and we were immediately struck by the overpowering smell of sea salt and seagull droppings. The port mainly comprised of several large buildings, most of which served as warehouses to store various stocks that arrived here from all over Gielinor. Even at this hour fish mongers could be heard calling out prices for their fresh catches. A few ships could be seen floating anchor-down in the harbour, but none of them looked particularly impressive.

We dismounted from our horses and tied them to a wooden seam protruding from the pub. The Rusty Anchor was hardly my favourite drinking place; the pub was always dingy and damp. Nonetheless, being in a port town meant that The Rusty Anchor was always full of exotic looking people from far off places, each with their own captivating stories. These days however, the pub was usually filled with smugglers and pirates. Piracy, although frowned upon, was not technically illegal in these parts.

Ariane stepped towards the pub and looked back at me questioningly when I didn't follow.

"You go first," I told her. "I just need some air."

She nodded and pushed open the pub door. I stepped out onto the pier and breathed in deeply. I was suddenly struck by another sudden wave of nausea which had nothing to do with the smell of the area. For a moment I thought I was going to retch and I bent down onto the pier facing over the sea. I saw my reflection in the murky water and noticed that my brow was dotted with sweat. What was wrong with me? I got up and shook my head around a few times. The sheathed Sword of Edicts felt overly heavy around my waist so I unfastened it and secured it to my horse before walking over to pub.

The Rusty Anchor was more dingy than I remembered. The small, dimly-lit pub was full of sailors and pirates drinking, slobbering and laughing. So many of them were hairy and toothless that I wondered if such people received a discounted price here. I looked around and found Ariane sitting at the bar. I was thoroughly annoyed to see a small group of men standing around her and ogling without any attempt at discretion. It was evident that such a stunning woman was rarely found in this establishment.

I moved over to one of the men.

"Do you mind moving?" I asked with a forced courtesy that the sailor did not deserve. "I want to sit and you're in my way."

The sailor looked at me, grunted, and walked away with a scowl. I took a seat next to Ariane. She smiled bashfully and held up a thick mug full of brownish water.

I laughed. "You'll forgive me if I choose not to drink that."

Ariane laughed too. "I don't think anyone has ever ordered water at this pub before. You should have seen the look on the bartender's face. He probably just filled this glass with sea water from the docks." We laughed some more.

Ariane smiled and looked down at the pitiful drink. "I guess coming here wasn't one of my better ideas. Want to go?"

As Ariane spoke, I noticed her slightly jerk one of her arms away. I realized that the pirate on her other side had been rubbing up against her. The pub was crowded and it was possible that it was a harmless mistake, but I knew that it wasn't.

"Hello?"

"What?...Yeah, okay. You go get the horses ready. I'll be out in a minute, I just need to wait for the bartender to come around so I can pay."

Ariane regarded me suspiciously. "I don't need you doing me any favours, Garviel. I'm fine."

I forced a smile. "I'm not going to do anything. But however pathetic this drink is, I still have to pay."

Ariane gave me one final look before getting up and walking out of the pub, the eyes of many men following her along the way.

No sooner had the pub door closed behind her than the pirate arose from his stool. "Ne'er before have I seen a finer woman in this shithole of a port," he said loudly to the other men in the pub, to numerous cheers of assent and raising of glasses. "Did ye see the curves on her? Who wants the follow the redhead lass and see if she's walking back home alone tonight?"

"That's enough," I said, getting up and pushing my bar stool back with a screech. The noise level in the pub dropped considerably.

The pirate turned to regard me, looking me up and down. I must not have seemed like much, completely unarmed and unarmoured. I had dabbled with pirates before and it was probable that this one had heard some stories about me, but it would be impossible for him to know who I was in my current state.

"Watch yer mouth, boy," said the pirate menacingly. "Or I may just have to cut off yer tongue." He brought a hand down to the hilt of his steel longsword. Two big bald thugs got up and stood at either side of him, likely members of his crew. The pirate was slightly shorter than I was, but much stockier. Across his head he wore a typical black feathered hat. Most of his face was covered in a thick, black beard that was currently dripping with alcohol. He motioned for me to sit back down.

I didn't move a muscle, and I stared right back at him. The pirate nodded his head ever so slightly and one of his big goons moved forward towards me.

With speed completely unexpected I reached a hand around the neck of the thug and slammed his head down hard into the bar, knocking him out instantly. The other men in the pub began to cheer and chant "_Fight! Fight! Fight_!" Someone at the back began playing a lively tune on the flute.

The other thug moved forward and took a swipe at me which I easily dodged. I elbowed him on the side of the head and brought my other arm up to punch him right in his face. The thug fell to floor, nursing his broken bloody nose.

The pirate, glancing down at his two easily disposed men, realized that he was up against real opposition and hastily brought out his sword. He lunged and tried to stab at me. I jumped back to avoid the strike, knocking over a few bar stools. Dodging fists was one thing, but dodging blades left for no margin of error. The pirate lunged again and I backed off once more. The people around us got up to make space for the fight. I picked up a discarded stool and used it as a shield to parry the pirate's next strike. It just about worked but the sharp blade cut easily through the weak wood and a stool leg fell off.

"_Fight! Fight! Fight!"_

Knowing it was useless, I discarded the broken stool down to the floor and leapt back to avoid a quick return stab. I felt the bar behind me and knew I couldn't evade the next strike. The pirate smiled an almost toothless smile and pointed his sword at me. I reached back onto the bar to find a heavy beer glass and I thrust the liquid onto the pirate's face. While he was momentarily distracted, I chopped hard on the pirate's sword-hand, making him release the weapon which dropped to the ground with a rewarding _clang_.

I caught the pirate by the throat and ran him hard into a wall of the pub. With incredible strength, I lifted him off the ground from the neck with a single hand. The pirate chocked and clawed at my face with his dirty hands trying to get me to release him. I held him firmly in place, his feet off the ground.

The pirated chocked more. I realized that no one was chanting anymore. The music had stopped. The pub was completely silent now. No one dared move. This was no longer a fun fight. I was choking the pirate to death.

_If you have the strength to do something you want, then do it._

I held firm around the pirate's neck. The pirate wriggled his neck desperately to try and make space for some air. His hat fell off.

"You won. Let go mate," said a random voice somewhere behind me.

_Why restrain yourself because of what someone else tells you?_

The pirate clawed at my unyielding hand in vein. Horrible, soft, dry gurgling noises came from his throat.

_Anarchy is not the opposite of freedom. Anarchy is the definition of freedom._

I raised the pirate higher. His eyes began to close.

"Garviel?" I turned and saw the silhouette of Ariane standing at the doorframe.

I looked back at the chocking pirate. I released my grip and the he dropped down to the floor, gasping profusely for air with his mouth wide open. Someone came forward and bent down to help him.

I turned around and walked from the pub without another word.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

(M)

"You know, you really shouldn't have done that," Ariane said again. We were tying our horses up in the Rimmginton stables and gathering hay for them to sleep in.

"He started it," I replied simply, throwing down a bale of hay. "And it was just something I had to do."

Thankfully Ariane had only just re-entered The Rusty Anchor when she had spoken my name. She thought that I had been involved in an average, everyday pub fight and fortunately for me she had no idea how close I had come to killing someone.

Ariane ruffled her horse's mane gently to say goodbye and we walked towards the purple portal that led to my home.

"I'm just glad that you're feeling better," she said.

It was true. After the pub bout I had felt incredible and it was not just from the adrenaline. All traces of my sickness had left. It was almost as if my body had cried out for a fight.

Ariane stepped into the portal and I entered after her. I stood in my courtyard and looked around; the sight of home was welcoming indeed. Ariane yawned and stretched her arms up.

My pets ran forward to greet me, but I didn't spare them a glance. My eyes were fixed firmly on Ariane. She was gorgeous. It was no wonder why the randy men at The Rusty Anchor had gotten so excited over the sight of her – which hot-blooded man wouldn't? Her stretching only served to accentuate her ample bust and slim waist. She was the perfect poster woman of fantasies made real. And here she was – in my house, at night. Something inside me stirred. I couldn't stop myself if I tried.

"Ariane, I need you. Now."

"Excuse me?" she asked, bringing her arms down, a look of confusion on her face.

I roughly brought my mouth to hers, and pushed her back against a white stone wall. I forced her lips open with my own and my tongue hungrily entered her warm mouth to begin exploring. Ariane was taken aback by the ferocity of the kiss and it took her a few moments to realize what was happening before she began to kiss back. She moved her tongue around to try and find a way to my mouth but my own tongue selfishly fought her back for more room for himself.

Ariane brought her hands to my hair and began to gently toy with the strands. My hands reached over to pull hers out of my hair and I lifted her arms up high. I pinned her hands up against the stone wall with a single-handed tight grip whilst my other hand reached behind her head as I intensified the kiss even more. My nearby pets all ran away, probably thinking I was in partaking in some sort of duel.

With no hands at her disposal Ariane struggled to match my power in the kiss and my tongue overpowered hers. Knowing the advantage was mine, I removed my hand from her head and moved it slowly down to the small of her back which was exposed as her robe top had ridden up with her arms. The skin was soft and supple to the touch as I rubbed my hands around the back of her slender waist.

But I needed more. I lowered my hands further still and made contact with her ass. Ariane quivered slightly at the touch and moaned softly into my mouth but I barely registered her reaction. Her ass was round and so incredibly tight that I was initially shocked. How had I never noticed this before?

I gently squeezed and revelled in the feeling of the taut, soft flesh around my fingers, hindered solely by the thin green fabric of her robe bottom. One hand was no longer enough and so I released my hold on her hands to bring my other one down to aid in the clasping and clutching. Ariane lowered her arms and entwined them around my neck, her tongue beginning to gain dominance over mine while I was distracted from the kiss. But for me it was as if the battle at the top hardly mattered anymore considering what was going on down below.

Both hands firmly on her lower cheeks, I gripped tightly in unison, eliciting another moan from Ariane. I gripped harder still and yanked her up. Ariane instinctively hugged her legs around my back as I carried her off the wall, supporting her weight with my arms as I staggered aimlessly around courtyard, our tongues still locked.

The force of her weight only served to press her soft ass harder into my appreciative hands. In a moment of wild lust, I removed a hand briefly and brought it back hard to her lower cheek with a rough _slap_. The sound seemingly echoed through courtyard and my returning hand was rewarded by feeling her tight flesh ripple. Ariane broke the kiss immediately.

"Mfffghh…What are you doi-?

I responded with another firm _slap_, this one slightly harder than I had initially intended. Ariane looked down at me with a slightly annoyed expression but I hastily brought my mouth back over hers before she could say anything. Her tongue remained unmoving in momentary defiance before it re-joined the struggle against mine.

Still carrying Ariane in my arms, I randomly kicked open a door, in the heat of the moment not evening knowing where it led. The door flew open to reveal the dining room. It was going to have to do. I kicked aside some dining benches and lowered Ariane to the cool marble-surfaced table, ensuring our mouths never disconnected.

As I laid Ariane down on the table my hands were cruelly pried away from her ass and so they moved up to her waist in search of pastures anew. Her slender stomach was now covered by her green robe and something roared with fury inside me against the constrictive material. My hands gripping tightly on the green fabric, I tugged hard and the material tore.

At this Ariane brought her hands to my shoulders and pushed me off rather forcefully. I fell back panting heavily as Ariane got off the table.

"Garviel…" she said through heavy breaths. "What's wrong with you?" Her red hair was dishevelled and fell wildly across her face while her sweat-glistened chest rose up and down with every breath. She looked down at her robe top which was ripped open at the bottom, revealing her naval.

"I'm sorry," I said, not knowing what had come over me. "I don't know, I've just felt different since…"

Ariane's eyes narrowed as she formulated the answer herself. "The demon," she said. "What happened up in Sedridor's office?"

"I killed it," I said simply, annoyed at the question.

"Before that," said Ariane, equally annoyed with my response. "What happened?"

I thought back. "Well, it tried to convince me to join Zamorak. It showed me a vision or something."

Ariane's mouth opened slightly. "You looked into its eyes?"

"Well yeah…but I-"

"How long did you look?" asked Ariane, cutting across my reply.

"I…I don't know."

"How long did you look, Garviel?" she repeated.

"I don't know!" Without conscious thought, I had yelled out loud. Ariane jumped back slightly. Whatever romance of the moment that was left was now long gone. I regarded Ariane, she looked a little scared. The realization that I had frightened her filled me with self-loathing and disgust. What was wrong with me?

"I'm sorry Ariane," I said, composing myself. "Truly, I am. But please tell me what happens when someone looks into the eyes of a demon."

Ariane brushed some hair out of her face. "Nothing, if you only look for a moment. But if you look for a long while it is said that the demon can impart some of its dark traits onto a person."

At the sight of my expression Ariane took a step closer and hastily added, "But it's only temporary. It's almost never permanent. These thoughts will likely pass within a few days."

I looked at Ariane.

_Almost never permanent_. I did not like the sound of that at all.

Without a word I walked out of the room and down the courtyard, pushing open a nearby door to another room. Ariane followed close behind me.

"Don't you see?" she implored to my back as I searched around the room, "It doesn't even matter!"

I found the Icyenic Greathammer and lifted it up in my hands, the blue light within the weapon pulsing harder at my touch.

I turned back to Ariane. "It matters to me."

I fastened the Greathammer across my back and strode past her towards the exit portal.

"Where are you going?" she shouted after me, "Damn it Garviel, it's the middle of the night!"

I sighed and turned around. "Look Ariane, you can stay here as long as you want. But there's somewhere I have to go right now, and I'm not going to wait. And Ariane, I think we should…" I took a deep breath to stop my resolve from wavering. "Until I fix this, I don't think we should see each other anymore. The last thing I want would be to hurt you."

"Garviel-" Ariane began, but I just turned around towards the portal. There was no point in arguing now.

"Garviel, please just wait! Why don't we-" called Ariane from behind me, but I stepped through the purple portal and heard no more.

(/M)

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The massive crypt was dark, lit solely by mysterious blue light emanating from the chamber walls themselves.

"I'm surprised to see you back here, World Guardian," said the woman, her melodic voice echoing around the chamber. "I have not yet heard anything about your Temple Knight."

I took a breath of the cold air before replying. "That is not why I am here. I have to know, am I still pure of heart?"

The woman regarded me closely. "The pureness of one's heart is not something that can be easily quantified, Garviel."

I sighed inwardly. I knew that the woman did not receive visitors often and was toying with me for the sake of conversation.

I tried not to reveal any of my annoyance. "It comes down to this - Would I still be able to properly wield the Wand of Resurrection?" I asked. I tensed slightly waiting for her response.

The woman didn't answer straight away. Instead, she walked around me, the sound of her four hooves loud against the icy floor.

"No," said Fern the Centaur simply.

My heart dropped. I had been expecting this, but to hear the confirmation was something that I was never really prepared for.

Fern continued. "My sister will always be the purest person that I ever known and no one will ever be able to compare. That being said, I sense a certain….taint within you that wasn't present before."

"Is there anything I can do?" I implored, almost pleading.

"That depends," said Fern, turning to face me. "What are you prepared to do?"

I turned to boldly meet her gaze.

"Anything. I will do anything."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-


	8. Budding Betrayal

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Burnthorpe was far from an idyllic town. No matter where you looked armoured Imperial soldiers were everywhere – patrolling the streets, performing drills and repairing crumbling buildings. Nothing had changed at all here since the return of the gods – the Imperial Army was still firmly entrenched in their battle against the mountain trolls. A war within a war.

I walked past a battle-tent and glanced inside. Stretchers full of injured and dying soldiers were crammed in the small area while under-staffed medics tended to their moans and pleas for pain-alleviation. I looked away, more than slightly disconcerted from what I had just seen. This drawn-out war against the trolls had been costly indeed, and it showed no more signs of ending than it had a year ago, or the year before that.

Calls for the daily rations collection were in effect and soldiers crowded around hoping for a good meal. I watched as a drill-sergeant yelled at his new recruits, prohibiting them from collecting their lunch ticket for their disorganised march performance. I pushed past a few men and carried on walking – I would come back here to help when I had the time, but for now my destination lay further north. I remembered arriving here when I was just a-

"Umgfh!"

"Sorry!" I cried, helping the man up. "Didn't see you there."

The dark-haired soldier dusted off his armour and looked up at me. His look of annoyance was immediately replaced with one of delight.

"Garviel!" said Corporal Boothe, clasping my arm. "Great to see you again!"

"And you too, Boothe," I said, smiling back. "How goes the war?"

"Oh, you know," said the Corporal, with not much enthusiasm. "Same old same old."

One of his steel claws had dis-attached from his arm when he had fallen. I picked it up and handed it back to him.

"Still using these?" I asked. "I've always said they were too flimsy."

Corporal Boothe grinned as he re-fastened the weapon. "They're standard issue now. And I'm getting pretty good with them."

He looked back at me, this time with curiosity. "Say Garviel, what are you doing here in Burnthorpe anyway?"

_The tension in the chamber crypt was palpable. Fern continued her walk around me._

_"To remove this taint, I need you to retrieve something for me," she announced, slowly and carefully._

_"Say it, and it will be yours," I replied. "What do you require? A sword? An elixir? A magical artefact?"_

_"A flower," stated Fern simply. Her voice echoed around the empty chamber, making her request sound even more ridiculous. _

_"A flower?" I repeated, confused. "How will a flower help me?"_

_"Not just any flower," said Fern. "Allow me to elaborate. The flower I need is a blossomed blue rose – I've heard it possesses magical properties to remove taint."_

_I relaxed slightly. If all I needed to do was bring back a flower, this was going to be much simpler than I had envisioned. I nodded to the centaur and turned to leave._

_"Oh and I should add…"called out Fern as I strode away, "A blue rose can only be found on the peak of Trollheim Mountain."_

_I turned around. "Excuse me?" I blurted. "That area is infested with trolls."_

_Fern regarded me coolly, "I never said this would be easy."_

_I swore under my breath. "Anything else you think I should know?" I asked sarcastically._

_"Yes," said Fern, seemingly not detecting my cynicism. "The blue rose only blossoms briefly at the precise moment of daybreak. And I'll need you back here before the next full moon three nights from now."_

_Damn._

"Well actually Boothe, I'm just passing through. I'm heading up to the mountains."

"Ohh," said Boothe, his face dawning with recognition. "You're part of the mission!"

"The mission?" I asked, confused.

"There's no need to play dumb with me Garviel, I've been briefed." He winked and continued. "When Commander Denulth said he was waiting for an adventurer, I should have known it was you. Go up this road and turn left, he's waiting in the command building by wall."

Boothe gave me a shove. "And don't be late, he hates tardiness. Good luck!"

Utterly confused, I smiled vacantly and turned from the waving corporal. A mission? What was going on? I walked up the path towards the wall. I had to go this way to reach the mountains anyway, so I might as well see what was happening.

Burthorpe's defensive wall was thick and large, but far from majestic. Countless attacks from the trolls had taken its toll on the wall, which had begun to crumble in more than one place. So far it had held strong, but I doubted that it could handle several more strong attacks. Atop the wall Imperial archers stood guard, constantly vigilant for the next troll sighting.

I climbed up the stairs of the nearby command building and pushed open the doors. Commander Denulth stood examining a large map pinned onto the wall. He turned at my entry and looked thoroughly surprised to see me.

"Garviel, what are you doing here?" he asked in a forceful tone. "How did you know about this assignment?"

I glanced around the room. A scarred, rather old woman sat reading transcripts at the desk while a young soldier gathered equipment from an armoury cupboard.

"I really don't know," I replied honestly.

Denulth regarded me suspiciously for a few moments before his features relaxed.

"I apologize," he said briskly, rubbing a hand over his bald head. "After all you have done to help our cause, I should not question you. And we could definitely use someone of your ability with us. So are you here because you wish to join?"

"Join in what exactly?" I asked, still puzzled.

Denulth motioned for me to join him by the map and I walked over.

"We are about to undergo an operation," announced the distinguished commander. "The trolls haven't attacked in a while and we must know what is happening north of the wall."

"If they are not attacking, isn't that a good thing?" I queried.

Denulth regarded me. "You know as well as I that trolls are stupid creatures. They respect only strength. It is likely that a new troll general has taken control, and that he is amassing troops for one powerful strike. A strike that we may be unable to defend."

"What do your scouts say?"

"Nothing," said the commander with a sigh. "We've sent out three scouts in the last two weeks but none have yet returned." Survival up in the mountains was hard. I doubted that Denulth would ever see his three scouts again. Not alive, at least.

The commander motioned back to his two soldiers in the room. "That's where we come in. We're going to travel north of the wall and see what's happening up there in the trolls' stronghold. This is primarily a reconnaissance mission, but if the opportunity arises we hope we can make an assassination. The chances of that are slim, but possible."

"You are going yourself, commander?" I asked, surprised.

Denulth nodded. "I'm not going to send any more scouts to their deaths. A small, experienced strike team is our best option now. I want to see for myself what is happening up north. Plus, no one knows these mountains better than I do."

"Traversing Death Plateau is going to be very dangerous," I remarked.

Denulth tapped at his map. "We do have intel of an alternative route through the mountain valleys that will take us around the plateau. It's longer, but much safer to travel."

I regarded the map. I did not know of this route.

"So," said the commander, turning to face me. "Do you want to join us?"

"Well, I-"

"Come on, Garviel," he encouraged. "It's no coincidence that you just happened to be in Burnthorpe the day we were about to leave. This is a sign from Saradomin."

It actually _was_ a coincidence. I hadn't been sent by Saradomin, I had been sent by a centaur. And I was on a mission of my own – to find a rare blue rose to remove the taint from my soul. But I couldn't exactly tell all of this to Denulth, it would sound ludicrous.

Noting my hesitation, the commander pressed on. "Look, you're even fully equipped. If that's not a guarantee that you were meant to be here then I don't know what is."

True, I was heavily equipped at the moment. Not only was I fully armoured, but I had _both _my prized weapons with me. The Icyenic Greathammer was fastened securely around my back while the Sword of Edicts was sheathed around my waist. Their combined weight was considerable but I had elected to take them both with me for my highly dangerous expedition to find the flower.

I looked back at the map. If I followed the commander and his reconnaissance team I could find my way up to Trollheim Mountain much faster. It had taken me a whole day just to travel to Burnthorpe which meant that that I had to get the flower and get back to Fern by tomorrow night. Yet I knew that following Denutlh would mean I would have to ditch him and his mission at some point once we were near my real target destination. I would not enjoy deserting the commander, but time was not on my side and getting the flower fast was the only way I could remove this taint inside me.

"Alright then, I'm in."

Commander Denulth smiled and slapped my shoulder enthusiastically. I forced a grin of my own, biting back my guilt.

"Meet the team," said Denulth, turning me around by the arm.

"This is Major Mary Rancour," he said, pointing at the scarred woman. I had met Major Rancour before; she was the leading combat trainer for the Imperial Army. Many years of fighting trolls had seen her acquire numerous scars, including several across her face. She seemed rather old with grey-hair and a lined forehead but I had seen her fight and was glad that she was part of this mission squad. She nodded to me as a form of greeting.

"And this is Corporal Shaun Keymans," continued Denulth, pointing at the young soldier. Corporal Keymans didn't really seem to command any of the distinguished respect that Denulth and Rancour so naturally emitted. The lanky, brown-haired youth looked rather inexperienced. Indeed, when I looked at him he fumbled with some of his equipment and dropped a sword and crossbow to the floor with a loud _clang_. I wondered how he had been selected for the mission.

"Pleasure to meet you," he said, smiling faintly.

I nodded back at him and addressed the room. "Are we all ready to go?" I was already feeling rather impatient.

"Just a moment Garviel," said Denulth, "We're just waiting for one more adventurer…Ah, here she is now."

I turned as the door opened and a striking woman entered the room. Her blonde shoulder-length cropped hair was held back with a headband to reveal an angular, soft-featured face. Her amber eyes flashed with surprise when she saw me, and she grinned broadly. Although her forehead, cheeks and neck were dotted with soot, her smile revealed a full set of perfect white teeth. Her sleeveless armoured-bodice exposed toned arms and a generous cleavage.

"Why hello there Garviel," said Linza.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Rocky cliffs rose up on either side of us as we traversed through one of the many valleys of the northern mountain range. Apart from the distant cawing of eagles high above, it was completely silent. I found it hard to believe that we were actually trekking through a warzone.

Our party of five had been let through the defensive wall about ten minutes ago to begin what was going to be a long expedition. We stayed close to walls of the cliffs to prevent ourselves from being ambushed, but there was no real threat this close to the Imperial line. Apart from small scouting groups, trolls never came this near to the defensive wall unless they were carrying out a full-fledged attack en masse. Far off into the distance, I could just about see the tip of the massive Trollheim Mountain.

Linza had been walking up front with Commander Denulth to get briefed but now the blonde had lowered her pace to walk alongside me at the rear of the group.

"So what were you and the good commander talking about?" I asked her as a means of starting a conversation.

Linza smirked. "I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you."

I grinned. "I'll take the risk."

"I'm acting as their weapon specialist," began Linza. "We both know that I'm not here for my fighting ability, or lack thereof. You'd have noticed that the Denulth, Rancour and Keymans aren't using their claws for this mission. When it comes to reconnaissance and assassination, swords and daggers are the preferred modus operandi."

I had indeed noticed the change of weapons for the three Imperial soldiers.

Linza continued. "But the Imperials aren't used to fighting with blades. Up in the mountains, iron can rust, steel can freeze and blunt. I've been hired to make sure their equipment stays faultless. The last thing they want would be to corner the troll general only to stab him with a dull edge."

"And you're doing this all out of the goodness of your heart?"

"Course not," said Linza, as if that would be the most preposterous thing ever. "I'm being paid. It's a lot of money as well."

"Right."

I kicked a stone up the valley path.

"Hey, don't judge me," said Linza, turning on me. "Don't think I haven't noticed your Construction Mastery cape. That must have cost a bombshell. When did you even get that anyway? I've been sawing planks for ages and they still say I'm not good enough to have mastered the skill."

I laughed. "I got it a while back. And it didn't cost as much as you'd think."

"Yeah…well, I'll always be the better metal smith. And let's face it, in these times of war that's way more important."

"If you say so," I said softly, playfully trying to egg her on.

"Of course it is!" she insisted. "An army needs swords and shields."

"An army also needs shelter," I stated, matter-of-factly.

Linza snorted. "You need a good blade to beat a person in combat. You can't exactly defeat someone with a wooden plank."

"Is that a challenge?"

From the front of the group, Commander Denulth turned back to face us. "Oi! Keep your voices down," he called out. "And keep up too. You adventurers are supposed to make this easier for us."

Linza and I laughed quietly when the commander turned away. I took the opportunity to regard her once more. Linza was a very unique type of woman. She was often tomboyish in her behaviour and attitude, normally spending all her nights out drinking and choosing to wear her thick armour around the clock. Yet, there was something about her. Although her face was often covered in soot and furnace oil, she somehow always remained incredibly attractive. And no armour piece she wore, however thick, could fully hide her very feminine body. It was abundantly evident that, _if _she tried, Linza could easily turn into a jaw-dropping beauty overnight.

Linza punched my shoulder playfully and laughed again. I liked her laugh – it was unrestrained and loose.

"Man, it's been a long time Garviel," she said, her laughter subsiding. "When was the last time we met?"

"I don't really know," I said honestly. "But it must have been a long time ago."

"Mhmm. So what's been happening with you recently?" she asked.

I hesitated. It was clear that Linza hadn't heard about me becoming the World Guardian yet. I preferred that she didn't know for now. It felt liberating to have that burden lifted from my shoulders, albeit only for these few moments of light conversation.

"Not much," I replied simply.

"Any romantic endeavours?" Linza asked, watching me closely.

I was a little surprised to realize that I hadn't thought about Ariane for quite a while. I wondered why that was.

"Well, Ariane and I have something going on at the moment," I said.

"Oh," said Linza, looking away. "The redhead mage. She's really pretty." I sensed something in Linza's features but I couldn't pinpoint what it was. I knew that Ariane and Linza had met on many occasions, but they weren't exactly friends. They respected each other as adventurers and Legends' Guild colleagues, but they were just too different to properly connect.

"You know Linza, I—"

"DOWN! Get down now!" Major Rancour suddenly shouted back at us.

Instinctively I jumped for cover behind a few boulders along the valley path, pulling Linza down too. Up ahead, Denulth, Rancour and Keymans all shared the cover of another massive rock.

For a few seconds there was silence. Then I heard it. _Thud, thud, thud. _Some of the smaller stones on the valley ground behind to bounce up from the vibrations. I risked a peek up over my boulder, but I couldn't see past the valley corner. I knew that the three Imperials in front had a better vantage point, and I glanced over at their rock.

The pale hand of Denulth lifted up over his boulder. He held out his empty hand fisted, and then flashed four fingers. Four trolls, we could handle that. I unclasped my Icyenic Greathammer and waited for the signal.

"Now!" I heard Denulth yell, and I jumped out from cover.

Four trolls stood in the valley, looking around dumbly for the source of the voice. They were huge, easily heads and shoulders taller than a normal human. Their eyes were pure green but the rest of their faces were obscured by their humungous jaws. Broad brown shoulders led to muscular arms which reached down all the way to their knees. Although these trolls were currently unarmed, they radiated danger.

Denulth lunged and stabbed one clear through its abdomen before the other creatures even realized what was going on. Piercing through thick hide and fat, the commander had to kick the huge troll back to pull his adamant sword free. The troll fell hard, its hands trying in vain to stop the dark red blood from spurting out of its stomach. Denulth had to dive to evade a wild swinging fist from another troll but Major Rancour met the creature with her own blade.

I charged to the nearest troll who turned around stupidly to regard me – quick reactions and reflexes were clearly not this race's strong point. With an incredible swing I brought the Icyenic Greathammer across in an arc right to the troll's face and there was a horrible cracking noise when the hammer met its target. The creature fell down hard with a roar and I was stunned to see that it was still alive; its massive jawbone had taken most of the blow and protected its skull. I quickly rectified the problem of its existence by raising the Icyenic Greathammer up high and slamming it down into the fallen troll's face, smashing it in.

I looked around and saw that Denulth and Rancour had despatched the third troll while Corporal Keymans had brought the last one down to the ground, his steel longsword raised above its head and poised to strike. But instead of finishing the job, the corporal began to speak.

"In the name Saradomin and all that is good in this world, I send you vile creature out of this plane of existence and back to—"

The fallen troll, hardly believing that it was still alive, swung up a massive long arm and whacked Keymans back several metres. The corporal landed hard on the rocky valley ground, completely winded. The troll got up and opened its mouth to let loose a roar of triumph but Denulth sliced his sword through the back of the creature's neck before any sound could be produced.

"Damn it Keymans," said Denulth angrily as he pulled his sword free from the dead troll. "Next time just kill the bloody thing. It doesn't need a damn eulogy."

I helped the corporal up. He was breathing sharply and his side was bruised but thankfully nothing seemed broken.

"Aren't trolls not supposed to this close?" asked Linza, stepping out from her cover. Not predominantly a combat-favouring adventurer, Linza hadn't taken part in the fight against the four trolls. Nonetheless, her mithril warhammer was unclasped and gripped tightly in both her hands.

"Actually, we're entering their territory now," replied Rancour as she cleaned the blood from her blade on a nearby rock. "These trolls were unarmed so they likely weren't even assigned scouts. Probably just normal mountain trolls walking about."

"Come on," said Denulth. "Let's keep moving."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

As late morning became late afternoon we did not encounter a single other troll. I could hardly believe how efficient this hidden valley pathway was; the route through Death Plateau would have been littered with the creatures. The sun was dipping slightly in the sky and the temperature became much cooler. My breath began to fog in the cold mountain air. Nonetheless, my heart lifted at the pace of which we were nearing Trollheim Mountain. Clouds gathered above the valley; it looked like it might rain soon.

After being chastised by the commander, Corporal Keymans had joined Linza and me to walk at the back of the group. Keymans clearly had some ability as a fighter – although I hadn't seen it, he had brought a troll down to the ground all by himself in the earlier skirmish. Yet it was clear that the corporal was still rather inexperienced in some aspects of warfare. Sweat dripped down his face despite the cool air; he had been assigned to carry all the extra ration bags and equipment as punishment for his earlier mistake.

"This is getting really boring," said Linza with a sigh, "I wish something would happen."

"Be careful what you wish for," I warned with a smile.

"Yeah," said Linza mockingly, "A troll army might suddenly just appear led by Bandos himself."

The mention of the God of War drained me of my humour. Of all the gods that had ever come to Geilinor, I held Bandos in the lowest esteem.

"Trolls are followers of Bandos?" I asked.

"I'm not exactly sure," said Linza, eyes closed in thought. "But I definitely remember once hearing that they fought for him during the God Wars."

I remained silent. Noting my slight annoyance, Linza continued. "You don't like Bandos, do you? I don't think He's all that bad…"

"Excuse me?" I asked cynically, scanning Linza's face and finding no trace of a joke. "How can you say that? He fights for no purpose - war just for the sake of war."

Linza took a moment before continuing. "Yes, you could argue that all the other gods at least have ideals over which they fight for. But at the end of the day, war is war. I think that for almost everybody the line becomes blurred, and the end of the day we're all just fighting for the sake of it anyway."

"I don't really understand." I replied, slightly confused.

Linza responded by calling out to the nearby corporal. Keymans turned at the mention of his name. "Corporal, why did you join the Imperial Army?" Linza asked him.

Keymans responded as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. "To kill trolls of course!"

Linza turned back to me. "Funny he didn't say he joined to protect the Asgarnian Kingdom. The Imperials have been at war with the trolls for so many years, killing them is all they know anymore. War has morphed the once proud institution into nothing more than trench-diggers and troll-slayers. Who even remembers the ideals they stood for back when they controlled Falador?"

Linza had a point, but I still couldn't accept her reasoning. I doubted that she would have even a shed of positivism for the God of War if she had experienced what I had with Zanik and the Dorgeshuun.

"There's some form of truthful simplicity in the ideology of Bandos," said Linza. "There will always be some form of war. Bandos accepts that and just chooses to look past the petty reasons we find to start them." She looked me up and down sceptically. "And I'm surprised that you're so critical of him. You don't need to be a master metalworker like me to know that you're wearing armour made by his followers.

I sighed. "Like I've said so many times, I'm wearing this out of practicality. I'll admit that no one makes stronger equipment than those of the War God."

High above the clouds thickened and the valley became a shade darker. Commander Denulth stopped our march and looked up.

"What's wrong boss?" asked Linza. "A little bit of rain never hurt anyone."

"It's not the rain that I'm worried about," said the commander, "It's the hail."

At the mention of hail Keymans began to look very agitated. Rancour started searching up the cliffsides for something.

"And what's wrong with a bit of hail?" I asked, already knowing the answer wouldn't be good. "We all have helmets on."

Denulth look back down at Linza and I. "Neither of you have ever been in a hail storm this far north have you?"

Something fell from the heavens and landed just two meters away from me with a considerable _thump_. I looked over and saw a block of hail as big as my fist. The downward force of something that size would be enough to dent even the strongest helmet and knock someone out cold.

Kennedy lent in a bit closer to me, his face full of anxiety. "And that's just a small one…"

_Thump. Thump._

"Find shelter, now!" ordered Denulth.

I looked around frantically searching for something that could protect us from the incoming storm but to no avail. We were in the middle of a valley, high vertical cliffs rising up on either side of us with nothing as much as small alcove to hide in between or under.

_Thump. Thump._

"Not down here!" yelled Denulth, now searching up the cliffsides with Rancour. "Look up the cliffs! They even out at some parts and they're full of mountain bear caves."

"There, commander!" shouted Rancour, pointing up the cliff to our right. I looked up and could just about see a small opening in the mountainside. It was quite high up.

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

"And how on earth are we supposed to get up there?" implored Linza, staying close to the side as hail began to pommel the valley centre more frequently.

Rancour walked over to Keymans, briskly turned him around and pulled the crossbow off his back. She opened one of his bags and took out a mithril grapple connected to an extremely long, thick piece of rope. Loading the grapple into the crossbow, Rancour aimed up the cliffside and fired.

She missed. The grapple came falling back down.

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

Major Rancour sniffed and pulled the grapple back. She fired again and this time the grapple caught the rocky side of the mountain. She tugged at the rope to test its strength before tying a portion of it across her waist.

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

A very large block of hail landed right in front of Denulth. The commander remained composed as also he tied some of the rope across his waist before passing it to Keymans. It was remarkable how unperturbed he was – if that block of hail had been a fraction closer it could have easily killed him outright.

Linza finished tying herself and I attached myself to the last bit of the rope. Rancour had already begun climbing the cliff side, the rocky walls containing numerous ledges and grooves for handholds.

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

After everyone else had taken a few steps, I felt for a groove in the cliff and lifted myself up, finding footing for my feet as well. _Slow and steady, Garviel, slow and steady_. One step at a time, I pulled myself up the vertical cliff. Although I willed myself not to, I could not help glancing down ever so often and at one point I briefly lost my composure upon realizing how high I was.

_Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump._

The wind intensified and started blowing hail onto the cliff we were climbing, but it looked like we were going to make it. Rancour was already near the mountain cave and everyone else above me was climbing well despite the pressure of circumstance. It was incredible that no one had been hit yet. Perhaps there truly was some form of divine benevolence watching over me.

With sudden, abrupt, agonising force a block of hail the size of a small melon rammed into shoulder. Its strength was enough to dent my strongly reinforced shoulder plating and my arm seared with pain. I completely lost my grip on the cliffside and fell down a couple of feet before the rope tightened out and left me dangling by the waist.

Above me the three Imperials and Linza were jolted by the sudden force of my hanging weight pulling down on them all. They all struggled to secure their grip, groaning and gritting their teeth in exertion. I tried to right myself but I couldn't reach back to the cliffside and I knew that I couldn't risk swinging the rope for risk of adding more pressure to those above. Glancing up I saw Commander Denulth stab his dagger into a crevice in the cliff and grip tightly to support some of the pressure.

_Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump._

The call was made.

"Cut the rope!" yelled Major Rancour from high above.

I knew it had to be done. It was only going to be a matter of time before the pressure of my weight caused someone else to lose their grip or, gods forbid, the rope snaps at the grapple. Being directly above me, the unenviable task fell to Linza.

"What? No! I'm not cutting him loose!" Linza yelled back.

I glanced down and saw a ledge a short distance below me. It was wide, enough for my two feet to fit on. While I couldn't swing back to the cliff, I knew that I could angle my fall to land on the ledge.

_Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump._

"Cut it now!" groaned Rancour again as she struggled with her grip..

"Just do it Linza," I said, before the blonde could shout in dissent.

Linza turned down to face me. "Are you kidding Garviel? I'm not—" She saw the ledge and knew what I was planning.

I tried to position myself as Linza pulled out her dagger. Reluctantly she reached below herself and began sawing at the thick rope, biting her lip as she cut. She looked back at me when the rope almost parted, amber eyes tense. She cut it.

The force of gravity immediately claimed me and I fell again, this time with no rope as a savoir. With full concentration I angled my descent and just about landed on the ledge, pushing my bodyweight forward into the cliff to gain balance and prevent myself from falling back. Everyone above me let out a collective sigh.

But this far was good. The small ledge couldn't hold my mass and began to crumble slowly. The ledge began to disintegrate bit by bit. Desperately I looked around, but the cliffside around me was smooth with absolutely nothing to grip onto or climb. I glanced down – it was a long fall. The ledge was almost gone now…There was only just enough space for both my pressed together…

_Thump._

A block of hail slammed into the cliffside just above me, narrowly missing my head. I looked up. The collision had made a crevice in the cliff! I reached up with both hands and gripped into the new crack in the rocks, pulling myself up just as the ledge below me fully disintegrated. With the extra elevation I was able to reach more grooves higher above and began to climb steadily once more.

_Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. _

Up above everyone else continued their climbs and Rancour soon pulled herself up into the mountain cave, giving it a quick scan to check if it was devoid of bears before helping up Denulth.

Hail crashed all around me but I held my focus. A small slip and that could be the end. After what seemed like an eternity I felt the reassuring grip of Denulth and Keymans around my arms and the Imperials pulled me into the cave. The dark cave wasn't very wide but was considerably deep and everyone moved over to its far end to avoid the giant hail stones that were now occasionally slamming into the cave mouth.

I slumped down against the cave wall, exhausted. We had spent hours walking since we left Burnthorpe but it felt like the climb up the cliff had been even more tiring than all the walking put together. I pulled out my water flask and took a deep swig.

"Rest up people," said Denulth as he finished coiling up the rope. "We're here till the hail stops. There's food in Keymans' pack."

Everyone moved over to grab some bread loafs and apples, but I wasn't hungry. Linza took a big bite from her loaf and sat back against the opposite cave wall. She looked at me wearily but I didn't meet her gaze. The Imperials and her ate in silence on the cave floor, no one talking about what had just happened.

I stretched my legs out and watched the hail fall. It was coming down as thick as rain now. I wondered what the mountain trolls did whenever this happened. After a while I heard gentle snores and realized that Keymans was sleeping, his head resting against the cave wall and drool beginning pool at the corner of his mouth. I tried to sleep myself but I still had too much adrenaline running loose. I contented myself with watching the hail watch some more.

I heard a shuffle and Linza propped herself down next to me.

"What are you doing?" I asked, turning to her.

"I prefer the cold hard floor over here to the cold hard floor over there," she replied, stretching out her own legs.

"Look, Garviel," she continued. "I'm sorry I cut the rope."

"Don't be silly," I said. "You had to do it. Please don't say you just came over to apologize."

"No, actually I wanted to ask you something." Linza glanced over at the Imperials and lowered her voice.

"I'm not as naïve as he is," whispered Linza, motioning her head towards the resting commander. "You just so happened to show up in Burnthorpe with trekking gear before even hearing of this special mission? I doubt that was just a fancy coincidence. I reckon you were planning on heading up to the mountains yourself anyway." Linza regarded me closely. "The real question is, why?"

I gave her intrigued face one final look before turning back to watch the hail, saying nothing.

"Fine," said Linza sullenly, getting up and moving back over to the other side of the cave.

As I looked through the thick storm of hail I could just about make out the massive form of Trollheim Mountain in the distance.

Linza would know soon enough.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-


	9. It's Our Choices That Define Us

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

It felt good to be back on solid ground.

I looked around. The valley was wet. The melted remnants of the hail had pooled together and were flowing downhill in small streams of slushy water. The air smelt clean and fresh, but the winds had definitely increased and were now borderline piercing in their strength. It seemed shockingly quiet now that the loud noises of the hail storm had finally ended.

I reached out a hand to help Linza down from her descent climb but she ignored it and jumped down cleanly before unfastening the security rope around her waist. My hand hovered stupidly in the air for a few moments before I retracted it and went to work untying my own rope. If Linza wanted to give me the cold shoulder, that was her problem.

"It's getting dark," remarked Corporal Keymans.

The storm clouds had cleared but the sky had darkened considerably. It had to be very late evening, which meant that we only had a few minutes of sunlight left.

"We keep moving," said the commander firmly, taking the first steps on our continued march up the valley. "We've lost a lot of time because of that storm."

No sooner had he spoken than another strong gush of wind struck us all. A collective shiver reverberated through our group. The valley was surrounded by two tall cliffs, thus trapping and strengthening the wind that blew through it. And this was the worse type of wind – it was the type of wind that you could somehow feel in your bones; it was the type of wind that sucked the vitality right out of you.

"Maybe we should have stayed up in the cave for the night," said Linza, hugging her bare shoulders.

I was inclined to agree. The cave had been dingy but it had shielded us from the strong winds. Staying there for the night would have kept us all relatively warm, and it would have kept us safe from any troll patrols in the valley at night. I hoped that Denulth knew of another secure place nearby where we could rest once it became too dark to travel.

"Here," said Major Rancour, pulling something out from Keyman's supply bag, "These camo-cloaks should protect you from the wind for now." She tossed us each a brown cloak.

I caught mine neatly. I was disappointed to find that it was rather thin, probably made light for scouting work. Interestingly, the brown of the cloak was almost identical to the brown of valley floor. I nodded gratefully to the major and pulled the cloak around myself. It was huge, the bottom of it marginally scrapping the ground. None of the others had cloaks this big.

"Who was my cloak designed for?" I asked. "An ogre?"

"Don't be a smart alec, Garviel." said Denulth. "You'll be thankful for the extra layers once the _real _cold hits us. Now come walk with me, we have matters to discuss."

I jogged up to the commander and walked alongside him, the two of us leading the group.

"I know it that it doesn't make sense travelling so late," began the commander, his voice level so that the others behind couldn't hear. "But truth be told, we need to get to the troll's stronghold within the next two days. We don't really have enough rations for a return trip if we take much longer."

A pang of guilt hit me hard and I involuntarily glanced up to Trollheim Mountain. We had almost reached the mountain now, which was of course my real destination. I would have to ditch our group in the middle of night if I stood any chance of reaching the mountain's peak and finding the blossomed blue rose at daybreak. And then I'd have to make the trek back alone, back to Fern before the end of the day.

"And Garviel," continued Denulth, his tone almost compassionate, "I'd like to thank you for coming with us. I know that I kind of put you on the spot back in Burnthorpe."

Another pang of guilt.

"And on behalf of the Imperial Guard, I apologize for the incident when we were scaling the cliff. We had no choice but to cut the rope."

"Think nothing of it," I replied, my words seeming strangely heavy.

The Imperials had been forced to cut the rope when we were scaling the cliff, and I understood that completely. It was my fault anyway for losing my grip, and I bore them no ill will for merely following protocol.

That was not betrayal. Betrayal was what I was about to commit later tonight. Betrayal would be when I deserted those who were relying on me without word or warning.

_But what choice do I have? I need to get the flower, I need to get this taint out of me. I am the World Guardian, I need to remain pure. After all, it was I who was pure enough to wield the Wand of Resurrection even when Saradomin himself had failed…_

I glanced back up to Trollheim Mountain. The Imperial shortcut had helped me greatly; I would never have made such good time without knowing this secret passage through the mountain valleys. But I had to leave them tonight. It was something I just had to do.

"Take a look at this," said the commander, his tone now back to its usual brisk nature. He pulled a map from his pocket and uncrumpled it. "I know a good place where we can stay tonight, provided it's still standing." He tapped at a spot on the map labelled _Scout's Pit Stop_.

I looked over the small map. It was quite dark now and I struggled to read it.

"That doesn't look like it's in the valley," I remarked.

"That's because it's not," replied Denulth. "Look around you Garviel, we're almost out of the valley pass."

I looked around. True enough, the cliffsides on either side of us were lowering the further we walked on, a clear signal that the valley would be leading up to open ground soon.

I glanced back and saw Rancour walking a few paces behind us. I couldn't see Linza and Keymans.

"Where are the others?" I called out to the major.

Rancour looked up. Despite the darkness I could still see the scars across her face. "They're just a little behind. They'll catch up."

"Look here," said the commander, nudging me and pointing back to his map. "Tomorrow we're going to be travelling east around Trollheim Mountain. It's a little longer, but it's the safest route. Trolls are never found east of the mountain. For some reason they always congregate to the west. After that we're going to scale up a few cliffs until we…"

Denulth continued talking but I didn't really listen. As guilty as I felt, I knew that I wouldn't be continuing on the Imperial mission after tonight. I noticed that the commander's breath was fogging up in the cold. I realized that mine was as well. It was getting very cold now, and the wind was getting fiercer as well. I hugged my long cloak around me.

I heard a crash and instinctively looked around. Keymans had caught up but he had slipped on some of the slushy hail residue and fallen down, the contents of his supply bag spraying all over the valley floor.

"That fool…" murmured Denulth.

The corporal sheepishly got up and began repacking his stuff. Major Rancour sighed and continued walking, but I stopped and trekked back to help him.

"It's okay Garviel…I've got it…" muttered Keymans, collecting a few stray apples.

"You've got to be more careful," I said, reattaching the crossbow across the back of his bag. "That noise could attract unwelcome attention at this hour."

"I know, I'm sorry," replied Keymans, tossing things back into his bag. "I'm always doing stupid things in front of the commander and major…They're just so intimidating."

"Yeah, you've got a point," I smiled, "I'm a bit scared of them too."

Keymans looked up suddenly. "Where are they?"

I glanced up the valley and saw that it was empty. Denulth and Rancour were only a little ahead of us, they couldn't possibly have gone far.

"There!" whispered Keymans, pointing at a boulder on the valley side.

Despite the lack of light I could just about make out the form of the commander hiding behind the boulder, making frantic hand gestures at us. I couldn't see his exact signals in the darkness, but it was clear that he wanted us to take cover.

There was a soft rumble of nearby footsteps. Heavy footsteps.

"Quick," I said, pushing Keymans behind a nearby large rock and kicking his remaining fallen belongings into the cover as well.

My hand fell to the hilt of the Sword of Edicts as I glanced over our hiding place to the commander's boulder. Just like before, Denulth raised up his closed fist. He flashed five fingers.

That wasn't too bad, we could probably handle five trolls. Denulth's fist clenched again and he flashed five fingers once more. And again. And again.

That was definitely too many trolls. We'd just have to lay low until they pass like I was prepared to do last time when I was hiding with Linza. Wait a minute…

"Keymans, where's Linza?" I asked desperately, suddenly aware that the blonde wasn't with us.

"Oh no," Keymans wheezed, "She stopped to get some stones out of her boots, she's still quite a bit behind us-"

I jumped out from cover and ran back down the valley, just hoping that the trolls hadn't rounded the corner yet and seen me.

I ran past two valley bends before I saw Linza walking up. She looked surprised to see me.

"Garviel? What are you…?"

I looked around for cover but there was absolutely none. There were no boulders or rocks at all that we could hide behind in this area of the valley. The sound of heavy footsteps were getting closer and closer.

I pulled Linza towards one of the cliffsides and pushed her down to the wet ground. I unclasped my camo-cloak and threw it over the both of us.

"Make sure you're covered," I whispered to her. "And keep still."

Linza knew what was happening by now and nodded slowly, pulling her legs under the cover of the cloak. We were pressed close against the cliffside, well away from the valley centre.

The heavy footsteps rounded the corner. We couldn't see anything from beneath the cloak but I could tell that there were many of them. A whole parade of trolls were walking by, the ground shaking slightly with each step. One foot landed right next to Linza, and I felt her just manage to suppress a gasp.

"Don't move…" I breathed into her ear, softer than a whisper.

Trolls' green eyes meant that they had clear night-vision in the dark. The only reason we remained undetected was because under the camo-cloak we probably looked like just rock. But one small movement and we were finished.

And even keeping still didn't guarantee our safety. We were well away from the valley centre but all it would take was one loitering troll and, gods forbid, we could even be stepped on.

More trolls walked by. Their numbers sounded endless, well over the twenty or so that Denulth had predicted. Holding Linza close and keeping perfectly still, we waited in trepidation.

Another troll stepped close to where we were laying. I anxiously waited for the thud sound of it walking away, but it never came. The troll had stopped.

And then, it spoke.

"Ey, look iz what I iz found!" it boomed in a deep, slurring voice.

I was absolutely certain that the cloak was about to be pulled off us.

"Wuz dat?" came another deep voice from further down the valley.

"Iz a apple," said the first voice, "Iz 'uman food."

I swore inwardly. One of Keyman's fallen apples must have rolled down the valley, and now a troll had found it in the most inopportune of places.

I heard the sound of the troll down the valley walking back up towards us. I held my breath. I didn't dare breathe.

"See, iz told youz I 'eard something!" said the first voice.

The other one's footsteps came closer. I had the impression that the second troll was examining the apple now. I was painfully aware than only a thin piece of material was hiding Linza and I from their view.

"Iz not a apple, youz idiot!" said the second voice, "Iz one of 'em round rubies iz it!"

"Oh," said the first voice. "Dusn't matta, lez go down to da town an' bash sum 'umies anywaiz!"

"We'z can't," said the second voice, rather sadly. "Da boss 'e sez no killin' da 'umans der nemore."

"Oh yeh…" said the first, as if only just remembering. "Whyz do we'z lis'en to 'im again?"

"Becuz," said the voice of a third troll that I hadn't even realized was there. This one's voice was much deeper and more menacing. "Cuz if yeh dun't 'e'll smash yer 'ead in."

A sudden gust of wind blew down the valley and I struggled profusely to keep the cloak from flying off without moving much, pegging it down with my arms and legs.

"Ah yea, daz right," said the first voice.

I heard the small _thump _of theapplebeing dropped and I felt it come to a rest by my feet. I held my breath once more but the trolls were already walking away down the valley, their heavy footsteps slowly subsiding into the distance.

Linza and I waited a few anxious moments more. I peeked out of the cloak and saw that the valley was empty once more. I got up and brushed the wet slush off my back and Linza did the same.

"That was way too close," she groaned.

It really was. I realized how fast my heart was beating.

Denulth, Rancour and Keymans appeared from further up the valley.

"Great, you're both alright," said the commander, looking thoroughly relieved.

"Listen, _commander_," said Linza, turning on Denulth. "No more travelling this late, it's too dangerous."

While normally he would have chastised her for her tone, Denulth simply nodded.

"I know," he said. "We're almost at our rest stop. It's just outside the valley. We've just got a little further to go."

I reached down for the apple and tossed it back to Keymans. The corporal fumbled with his hands but managed to catch it.

"Let's go then."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

_Scout's Pit Stop _was much nicer than I had envisioned.

After about a half hour more of hiking, the valley and cliffs had evened out to reveal a wide landscape dotted with thick fern trees. While it was far from snowy, the ground was covered in a thin white sheen of dried ice, making it very slippery indeed. The strength of the winds this far north seemed to have increased exponentially, and each gust had the potential to stagger someone, if not knock them over.

A further fifteen minutes had seen the commander lead us up two rocky slopes and past a narrow ledge to a remote opening. On the secluded ledge there were two very small wooden cabins which made up _Scout's Pit Stop_.

"How do you know that the trolls don't know of these cabins?" I had asked Denulth.

"Trust me," the commander had answered. "There's a very simple way of telling if trolls have found our scouting stations. If they remain standing, that means the trolls haven't found them."

"But what if the trolls purposely left them standing so as to ambush the next people that used them?"

"Trolls are stupid creatures. They don't have the capacity to think that tactically."

Denulth responded with pretty much the same reasoning when I had informed him of what Linza and I had overheard earlier whilst hiding under my camo-cloak.

"Trolls are stupid creatures," he repeated with a sigh. "I wouldn't put much effort into deciphering their pointless ramblings."

I was now busy in the arduous process of kicking the frost off my boots while Linza went about checking everyone's weapons and Keymans handed out the nightly rations.

"Us Imperials will take the cabin on the right," announced Major Rancour. "You adventurers can have the left one."

I glanced at Linza.

"Standard protocol applies," continued Rancour briskly. "No fires, that could attract trolls. And over the night there will always be one Imperial on lookout duty. Corporal Keymans, you're taking the first shift."

Keymans let slip an audible moan but quickly righted himself and saluted his major.

"Gladly, ma'am."

"Get some rest people," Rancour finished, and with a final nod she entered her cabin. Denulth gave us a nod as well before following her in.

I took a sorrowful glance at poor Keymans before pushing open my cabin door, Linza at my back.

The wooden hut was very small, with just a single medium-sized straw bed on one side and a tin wash-basin on the other. But it was much better than a dingy cave, that was for sure. We walked inside and Linza closed the door behind us. Immediately, the howling of the wind subsided. It felt incredible to finally get out of the stinging wind, although my cheeks and fingertips were already considerably numb.

"Well isn't this quaint," remarked Linza, lighting a small oil lamp and then striding over to the wash-basin to clean her face. The blonde had returned to her usual cheery self after I had gone back to rescue her from the trolls in the valley.

"Yeah," I said, looking at the bed. The straw bundle looked extremely inviting but as the gentleman I knew that I should leave the bed for Linza.

I walked over to the part of the cabin where I supposed the wooden floor panelling looked the comfiest and I set my weapons down. I had to kick some stray parchments and paper aside – clearly the last Imperial scout that had used this cabin had been quite messy. Idly, I wondered if that scout was still alive.

"Don't you want me to check your weapon?" asked Linza as I sat down on the floor, resting my back against the cabin wall. With the soot washed of her face, Linza looked very different indeed. The soft-features of her angular face appeared more prominent, and her amber eyes seemed to shine.

"No need," I replied, "My greathammer wasn't damaged in the combat."

"No, not that one," said Linza, pointing. "Your sword."

I looked over at the Sword of Edicts. I hadn't even used it yet in this expedition, and it had been kept sheathed the whole day.

"Well, go on then, show it to me," smiled Linza, with a slight glint in her eyes.

"Alright," I said, pulling the Sword of Edicts from its scabbard. "But I reckon it's just fine."

The magnificent weapon came free, the dim light from the oil lamp both reflecting off and passing through the translucent green blade.

"Wow," gasped Linza, coming closer from a better look. She reached out and I passed her the sword.

"Where did you get this?" she implored, her finger gently tracing along the unremembered language of the Edicts on the blade.

Linza of course didn't yet know about my ascension to World Guardian or that I was briefly made a Guardian of Guthix. Still, being a blacksmith, I knew that she would appreciate the quality of the weapon. My Icyenic Greathammer was a formidable armament as well, but it didn't possess any of the grace or elegance that seemed to emanate from the Sword of Edicts.

"Just something from my travels," I answered simply.

"I've never seen a weapon forged from such material," whispered Linza with awe. Her finger came to a rest at the symbol of Guthix.

"Guthix?" she asked. "Since when did He arm His followers?"

"Beats me," I said, taking the sword back. My fingers were still numb and I fumbled with the weapon, almost dropping it.

Linza broke free from her daze of admiration. "We really need a fire in here." She walked around the cabin edge looking for stray wood.

"Linza…" I sighed from my spot on the ground. "You know we're not allowed."

"And since when has that ever stopped you before?" she hit back, still searching for any spare wood. "My fire-making is pretty good now, I could get us a nice warm flame in no time."

"No," I said, more firmly. "Perhaps if it was only the two of us, but we can't endanger the Imperials."

The blonde turned back, hands on her hips. "Fine then, Mr Bossy."

Suddenly Linza's pout turned into a sly smile, one corner of her lips curving up slightly.

"Well there is another way…" she suggested, stepping closer.

"Do tell."

"There's always body heat." Her amber eyes were fixed on mine.

I struggled to find something to say.

"There's really no need for you to sleep on the floor anyway Garviel," she continued, toying with a strand of her blonde hair. "The bed is big enough, and we're all grownups here."

I knew that if I did sleep on the bed with Linza, she had something planned that was very grown up indeed.

"Ugh…I' don't think…"

Linza feigned a stretch, bending low to reveal a clear view of her ample cleavage. Even though I knew exactly what she was doing, I found it hard to look away.

"Are you sure?" she asked, getting up. She bit her lip suggestively, as if to make her proposition perfectly clear.

I thought of Ariane. I didn't know if we were still together, or if we had ever really been together, but it just felt wrong to do _things_ with any other woman at the moment. Even a woman that looked like Linza.

"No thanks," I said, even as a part of me yelled out in disbelief. "It's actually pretty comfy down here."

"Oh," said Linza, her smile fading slowly. She looked thoroughly disappointed, and I had the impression that she wasn't used to being rejected.

"Well, goodnight then Garviel," she said blandly, moving over to the bed.

I sighed inwardly and repositioned myself on the hard, splintery floor, using my travelling pouch as a makeshift pillow. There was of course another reason why I had been reluctant to accept Linza's offer. I knew that I'd have to sneak out tonight to leave the group – it was my only chance of reaching the peak of Trollheim Mountain by daybreak.

A strong gust of wind hit the cabin and the whole wooden hut shook and rattled a little. I felt sorry for poor Corporal Keymans, still stuck out there in the now near freezing cold.

The travelling and climbing today had left me near exhausted, but I was too scared to sleep, worried that I wouldn't wake up in time to leave. Instead, I rested with my eyes closed, willing myself to stay awake and rubbing my hands together for warmth.

Outside, the relentless wind carried on slamming into our rickety cabin.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

I cursed inwardly.

I had fallen asleep, and I had no idea for how long it had been.

I got up quietly to look outside the cabin's single window and was incredibly relieved to see that it was still dark. Apart from the thundering sounds of the wind outside, the only noise I could hear were the soft snores coming from Linza.

I picked up my weapons and fastened them again – the Icyenic Greathammer across my back and the Sword of Edicts sheathed around my wasit. I checked my travel pouch for basic supplies before slipping it around one shoulder.

I strode over to the door, but stopped to look across at Linza. The blonde was on her side, fast asleep. She must have tossed and turned because one of her slender, pale legs was out of the bed cover in the cold. I thought about walking over and covering her up, but I didn't know how light a sleeper she was and decided not to risk it.

Slowly and carefully, I opened the cabin door and stepped outside. Immediately I was pummelled by the hard, near ice-cold gale winds. I shut the door behind me, slightly louder than I had intended, and wrapped my cloak tight around myself.

I had only just begun to regain feeling in my cheeks, and now I was losing it again fast. My body cried out for me to get back into the relatively warm shelter of the cabin, but I knew that I had a mission to complete. Despite the strong winds, the sky was clear of clouds and in the moonlight I could clearly see the large silhouette of the nearby Trollheim Mountain.

Stepping slowly forward, I realized that Keymans was still on his turn at watch-duty. I guess that meant that I hadn't been asleep for very long anyway. It was easy to slip past him, the poor corporal was hugging himself tightly and murmuring to himself in cold.

Somewhere in the distance a wolf howled and Keymans jumped slightly, but I remained unnoticed. Taking one final look at the two cabins, I pulled over my hood and walked off into the night.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

I gripped another hand-hole and pulled myself up.

I could see them from here. What a beautiful sight.

Just ahead of me, no more than a hundred meters away, were five lovely blue mountain roses. The cure for my taint. Just like Fern had promised.

They hadn't bloomed yet. I looked up into the sky. It was dark, but with the clear tell-tale signs that daybreak was coming. In less than a half hour those roses would bloom, and then I could pluck one and begin my journey back.

_Made it with time to spare._

The Imperials would be awake by now. They would have searched around and called out for me to no avail, before continuing their mission, their squad now one man weaker. I tried not to think of their disappointment upon realizing that I had ditched them. I tried not to think of what would be going through Linza's mind at this moment.

The piercing winds had stopped a while back as morning approached. After they had died down the journey up Trollheim Mountain had been significantly easier. I stood up straight and stretched, taking a deep breath of the thin, cool air.

I looked around. It was quite a view from up here on the peak. Despite the darkness, I could see all the way down the mountain across every side.

I noticed a few mountain goats grazing nearby. There were many more mountain goats walking across the mountain's east foot. The goats down there were really big. I had no idea that northern goats could even get so large. They were almost too large. Wait a minute…

I squinted and looked closer. Those were no mountain goats, those were trolls! Ducking down fast, I anxiously waited for the large party of trolls to pass. I had been standing in the open like an idiot, and was just relieved that none of the trolls had been looking up the mountainside. They had been far away, but if I had been spotted and they had given chase to me, there was nowhere really to run.

I spied on the trolls as they treaded away, pushing and grunting at either other barbarically. I had a strange feeling, like I was forgetting something. I wracked my brain for the answer.

And then I remembered. Hadn't Commander Denulth said that trolls were never found east of Trollheim Mountain? And hadn't he said that he would be leading the mission group around the east side because it would be safer?

Well, for whatever godforsaken reason, the trolls were definitely travelling across the east side of the mountain now. And they seemed to be trooping en masse.

The Imperials had to be warned. It would only be a matter of time before the trolls ran into them. The mission group was no longer travelling through the mountain valleys, they were travelling on open ground. There would be basically nowhere to hide.

I looked back across at the blue roses. The cure for my taint. They hadn't blossomed yet, daybreak was still a while away.

I looked back at the trolls. They were travelling fast and would run into the Linza and the Imperials any moment now.

I looked between the two once more.

"Damn it," I cursed, getting up and striding quickly back down the mountain.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

* * *

_Author's Note: _

_Hey everyone,_

_Firstly I'd like to apologize for the late chapter update. I've just started my second year of law school and the workload is tough, and writing these chapters takes a lot of time. To my frequent readers, please know that I do have most of this story already planned out, but it's just a matter of finding the time to write it._

_Also, I want to thank everyone who has commented on my first fanfiction. I genuinely appreciate and value all your reviews, and know that ALL your suggestions are taken into account._

_Thanks for reading, and I hope that you've enjoyed the story so far!_


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